


a permanent mark (glowing in the dark)

by demonglass



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Domestic, Fluff, Food as a Metaphor for Love, Getting Back Together, M/M, Minor Angst, Mutual Pining, Slow Burn, a truly embarrassing number of lingering looks and touches, exes to friends to lovers, falling in love all over again, it's about the yearning, kind of...more like food as a love language, loving bickering, minor side pairs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-25
Updated: 2020-06-25
Packaged: 2021-03-04 00:49:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 60,217
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24904858
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/demonglass/pseuds/demonglass
Summary: Two years after Renjun and Donghyuck part ways, they meet again by chance.
Relationships: Huang Ren Jun/Lee Donghyuck | Haechan
Comments: 49
Kudos: 270





	1. step by step

**Author's Note:**

> [fic playlist](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/0Icio56hnnxVPV0DBs9PNr?si=ZblhFQ1hTIyvcV9MlpHbwA) ♡

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hhhh hi! i started this very impulsively at the end of march when i was having a hard time and wanted to cheer myself up and and it was just supposed to be like 10k.....i don't know what happened but it got away from me. this has been my labor of love for almost three months now and it's helped me focus on stuff other than the shitshow of the world so i hope if you've ended up here and read this it'll be a nice escape for you too <3
> 
> thank you kj for providing so much emotional support thru this, you helped me so much <3 and thanks kelly for inadvertently inspiring me to start this in the first place and sprinting with me! and desy idk if you'll read this but thank u for putting up with my nonsense on the tl, i really appreciate it <3
> 
> (note: fic is vaguely set in northern california. i apologize to anyone who is actually from there)

Renjun is by the water when he hears it. There’s the low crashing of waves and then there’s laughter that takes him back two years and two thousand miles. He doesn't believe it. He turns like a ghost. He doesn’t believe it. 

Standing on the boardwalk is a silhouette so familiar it knocks the breath right out of Renjun’s lungs. Brown hair tousled by the breeze, sweatshirt a red so bright Renjun can’t help but stare, animated arms, legs so long they give the illusion of impossible height. _Donghyuck._ He’s _right there_ and for a moment it feels like he’d never left. 

Renjun is frozen, can’t tear his eyes away from Donghyuck as he laughs into the phone clutched in his hand. It doesn’t feel real. Renjun is twenty-one all over again and it feels like the world is rushing past him like a river raging down stream. He feels himself getting swept up in it once more.

Wind whistles over the beach and the waves crash a little louder. The tip of Renjun’s nose is red as he faces the cold front head on. He watches Donghyuck’s hair fly about wildly, watches him start to turn, still laughing. He’s so busy watching, he doesn’t realize what Donghyuck turning his back to the wind means until Donghyuck is angled toward him and it’s too late.

Laughter dies in Donghyuck’s throat and his eyes go wide, wide, _wide_. He’s looking right at Renjun. Donghyuck stares and Renjun can’t move. The wind blows the hood right off his head, sending his silvery hair flying up and leaving him exposed under Donghyuck’s eyes. 

Donghyuck’s lips part in a crooked _o,_ and the phone in his hand seems almost forgotten. If not for the wind still sending his clothes and hair fluttering this way and that, Renjun would think time had stopped, the world had come to a halt. The waves hiss secrets against the sand and Renjun knows it’s a silly thought. 

“ _Renjun_?” Donghyuck shouts, voice carried over the beach by the wind. Disbelief is etched into his face, drenches Renjun’s name as it leaves his lips. If his call is a question, Donghyuck doesn’t wait for an answer. He says something into the phone, and then it’s gone and he’s scrambling like the wind has caught him and swept him up. 

Renjun’s feels weighted down as he watches, feels like his legs have grown roots in the hard-packed sand although he knows of nothing that can grow down here by the water. Donghyuck races across the boardwalk and for a horrible moment, Renjun wonders if he’s running away, if the sight of him is too much to bear, even after all this time. ( _Because_ of all this time.) 

But Donghyuck doesn’t disappear - he slaps a hand on the boardwalk rail and vaults over it, jumping seven feet down to the sand. He lands and drops to his knees, a hand out to steady his half-roll, and Renjun gapes. A rush of shock breaks the ice around his body and he takes a staggering step forward, worried that Donghyuck has hurt himself. 

Donghyuck was never one to break so easily, though. He bounces back to his feet, and as he picks up running again, his eyes are wild with something Renjun had forgotten. With the wind at his back, Donghyuck reaches Renjun before even a minute has passed. Renjun doesn’t have enough time to think, to prepare himself, before Donghyuck is right there, two feet in front of him.

Donghyuck is out of breath and panting, bent back to keep from doubling forward. He looks exactly how Renjun feels: winded, disheveled, wildly unprepared.

“Renjun?” His name sounds so different in Donghyuck’s mouth now. “Fucking hell, it’s really you.” Donghyuck fixes his eyes on Renjun’s and there’s _something_ in them that Renjun doesn’t recognize. He doesn’t have a word for it, but he has a feeling, a tugging in his gut, that tells him the same thing is shining in his own eyes. 

“Donghyuck.” It comes out as little more than a breath, a weak exhalation. He doesn’t know what to say. Donghyuck smiles regardless, and it looks different from how Renjun remembers it. It’s cautious. Hopeful? It chips away at Renjun’s frozen exterior. “What are you doing here?” 

“I just-” Donghyuck lets out a sharp laugh, like the reality of the situation is finally hitting him and he can’t quite believe it “-I just moved here.”

The muscles in Renjun’s jaw go lax and his mouth hangs open. “You what?”

Donghyuck laughs again, softer this time. “I just moved here!” He shakes his head, chestnut hair fluttering like a crown over his head. “Fuck, not even a month ago!”

Renjun tries to process this. _Donghyuck just moved here._ Last he’d known, Donghyuck was across the country. _Now he_ lives _here._ Renjun’s brain feels overloaded. He’s burning up despite the early March chill. “You live here? _Here_?” He feels like he’s playing catch-up with his feet buried in the sand.

The smile on Donghyuck’s face slips. “Yeah,” he nods, voice quieter than before. 

Shit, _shit._ Renjun doesn’t want Donghyuck to stop smiling because of him. Not ever again. “That’s cool,” he says, trying to save this before it falls apart. “I wouldn’t have guessed - I mean I always thought you’d end up somewhere warmer.”

Donghyuck’s face clears, and it’s like ice melting all around Renjun. “Right?” He’s smiling again, that hopeful gleam in his eyes. “But a little bit ago I came out to visit my cousin - you remember, maybe? Jisung? - anyway he was showing me around and he brought me to all these places and I couldn’t get over how cool everything was, and then we went to his dance studio and it was like, _fuck,_ it was perfect. When he started talking about his plans for the rest of school and mentioned that he was planning on moving off-campus and looking for a roommate was utter hell, I joked that I could be his roommate if I moved out and then shit just… _happened_. I found a restaurant that was hiring and figured it was a sign, and now I’m here.” 

Renjun can’t help the surprised laugh that leaps out of him. That is so like Donghyuck.

“Crazy, right?” Donghyuck says. His tone is light, but there’s a twinge of uncertainty in it, like he’s worried Renjun is laughing at him, not with him. 

“It’s very you,” Renjun says, and there’s an old, deep-rooted fondness in his voice. 

Donghyuck looks away, ducking his head under the pretense of cold, and Renjun remembers how sometimes Donghyuck could be just as shy as he was bold. He finds himself smiling, small and hesitant, but real. 

“Would you-” Donghyuck starts, at the same time Renjun says-

“-Did you have plans?”

Donghyuck’s head snaps up again. He looks at Renjun with wide eyes and shakes his head. “Just out exploring.”

“Do you-” Renjun takes a breath he hopes will give him the strength to continue “-want to grab a coffee or something?”

Donghyuck smiles, no uncertainty. “Yeah. That’d be nice.” He laughs, sounding equal parts nervous and relieved. “I could use something warm, it’s kinda cold as fuck out here.”

Renjun shivers in agreement, but the wind doesn’t seem to be bothering him as much anymore. “Do you want me to text you a place to meet up? Unless you-”

“I walked, yeah.” 

It’s disconcerting how Donghyuck can still answer his questions before they’re fully formed. Renjun shivers again. “I’ll give you a ride, then?”

“Thanks.” Donghyuck offers another smile and Renjun wonders how he can give them so easily. He takes the sight and tucks it into a pocket of his mind for safekeeping. It’s been so long, he wasn’t sure if he’d ever get to see this again.

“My car’s that way.” He points up the beach towards the near-empty parking lot. 

Donghyuck’s eyes follow the line of Renjun’s arm and he lets out a small sound of… surprise? Appreciation? “You still have Patience?” 

Renjun looks at him looking at the car; nostalgia clouds his eyes, and the sight makes something in Renjun’s chest tighten. “Yeah,” he says, “I drove her here when I moved.” Renjun wonders what the look on Donghyuck’s face now means. Wonders what he’s thinking of, what he’s remembering. “She’s a trooper.”

“That’s good.” Donghyuck looks back to him and there’s something like longing painted on his skin. Renjun pretends the tightness in his chest doesn’t get worse at the sight. “I always liked that car.”

“Did you really?” Renjun starts them walking in the direction of the parking lot, if only so he can look ahead to his car instead of right at Donghyuck’s face.

“Course,” Donghyuck says. “She took us everywhere.” He sounds so earnest, voice faraway. Renjun bites the inside of his cheek. The air between them thickens and Renjun worries it’ll be too much until Donghyuck laughs and the heavy feeling is carried away with the wind. “Plus the seat heaters… man those babies genuinely saved my ass more times than I can count.”

Renjun laughs then too, loud and full. He remembers all too well. “You were always cold, weren’t you. Never wore enough layers.”

“I had an aesthetic to uphold,” Donghyuck says brightly.

“It was college,” Renjun shoots back. “No one cared if you wore a snuggie to class. I think you could’ve gotten away with some warmer clothes.”

“Then I wouldn’t have had any excuse for holding your hand all the time,” Donghyuck counters.

Renjun shoots him a confused look. “We were dating? You could’ve held my hand whenever anyway.”

Donghyuck purses his lips, shakes his head. “Not before we got together.”

“You had no problem holding anyone else’s hands though.”

“That’s because no one else was you! Ah,” he sighs, “I thought time would make you smarter.”

“Well it hasn’t made you any better at getting the point across either,” Renjun says, sharp but not snapping.

Donghyuck lets out a low whistle. “Sorry, sorry.” He raises his hands in surrender. “Didn’t mean to offend. I think it’s cool that you haven’t totally changed since then.”

“It’s only been two years.” _Only_. 

Donghyuck clicks his tongue, disapproving. “Two years is a long time, Renjun. Just think about everything that happened in college. You could’ve been a completely different person by now.”

“You really think I could’ve changed that much?” Renjun doesn’t believe it. He may not be static, but he’s always been steady, hasn’t he?

“Your hair is different,” Donghyuck points out.

“That’s just hair.”

“Still. You called me crazy when I dyed my hair sophomore year.” 

“Because it was firetruck red! Basically neon.”

Donghyuck laughs. “ _Still_.”

Renjun shakes his head. Silence falls over them as the sand underfoot gives way to concrete and they draw closer to Renjun’s car. Renjun tugs the keys from his jean pockets and unlocks the doors when they’re near enough. He’s reaching for the driver side handle when Donghyuck speaks up again.

“I’m glad you’re not a stranger now.” His back is to Renjun as he circles the car to reach the passenger side, so Renjun can’t see the look on his face, but he can hear that his voice is genuine.

Renjun tugs his door open and sits down a bit harder than usual. He needs to catch his breath a moment before Donghyuck slips into the passenger seat. When both doors close and the hissing wind is sealed outside, the clicks of their seatbelts are deafening, and the silence within the car becomes all too pronounced. Renjun starts the engine quickly, just to have something to hear that isn’t either of their stilted breathing. 

The car revs to life, and as Donghyuck bends to hit the button for the seat heater, Renjun says, “I’m glad you’re not a stranger either.”

Donghyuck straightens in his seat and Renjun catches the small, pleased smile on his face. 

“Your taste in music better not have gone to shit, though,” Renjun adds.

Donghyuck snorts as Renjun puts the car in reverse and maneuvers them out of their spot. “Is that your way of saying I can DJ?”

Renjun shifts to drive and eases down on the gas. They roll forward and head for the exit. “If you want.”

“Still got an AUX in here somewhere?” Donghyuck asks, peering down at the empty port. His hands hover over the glove compartment, but he doesn’t open it. 

“I lent it to my roommate actually. Forgot, sorry. The radio still works, though.” 

“Bummer,” Donghyuck says, but he doesn’t waste any time hitting the power of the radio. It crackles to life and Donghyuck presses the first preset button. A song from the 2000’s starts playing, volume low until Donghyuck twists the knob to turn it up. “Throwback station?”

Renjun can hear the smile in Donghyuck’s voice. “Yeah,” he nods without taking his eyes off the road. 

Donghyuck mumbles something that sounds suspiciously like _nostalgic sap_ , but there’s warmth in his voice, so Renjun lets it slide. The roll to a stop sign and he realizes he doesn’t have a destination in mind. “Is there anywhere specific you wanna go?”

“Nah,” Donghyuck is quick to pass the reins to Renjun, “I barely know the area. Take us wherever.” A moment’s hesitation. “Within reason. Please don’t bring me to some back alley and kill me.”

“I would never.” 

Donghyuck makes an unimpressed sound at the back of his throat. “Sure.”

“I mean it. I’d never commit such a sloppy crime.”

“There it is,” Donghyuck says, grin in his voice. “There’s the Renjun I l-” he cuts off abruptly “- _know_.”

Renjun’s throat tightens and he pretends not to have noticed the stutter. “Some things never change I guess.”

Donghyuck’s voice is weak when he agrees, “I guess, yeah.” 

When neither of them says anything more, Donghyuck reaches forward to turn up the music again, and twenty year old pop fills the car to combat the awkward gap in conversation. They hit a red light and Renjun turns right simply so the car doesn’t stop with them like this, caught between old familiarity and the discomfort of years spent apart. 

“Can you pull up maps on your phone?” Renjun asks after realizing he’s not entirely sure how to get to his coffee shop of choice from the road he’s driving down. 

“Sure.” Donghyuck’s voice sounds like it’s back to normal at least. “Where’re we heading?”

“Mocha Emporium. The one on Hadley Street.”

“Sounds classy,” Donghyuck says absently, tapping away at his phone. After a minute, he lets out a little cheer. “Got it! Route’s loading.”

“Just give me the next turn when it comes up.”

“Aye aye, captain.” Renjun can see Donghyuck salute in his periphery. There’s a beat, and then: “Left in like a mile. I’ll let you know when we’re almost there.”

“Thanks.”

Donghyuck salutes again, and Renjun tries not to laugh. Clearly Donghyuck hasn’t grown up too much in the time they spent apart. “So what have you been up to since moving here?”

“Not much. Just slowly unpacking and settling into everything, a lot of bothering my cousin-”

“-Jisung?”

“Right. Bothering Jisung and going out exploring when I have time. I’ve been _hitting_ my 10k steps a day when I go out.”

“And when you don’t?”

“We don’t need to talk about that.”

Renjun laughs. Donghyuck sounds happy when he says they’re about to reach their turn. It all feels familiar. Easy.

Renjun has to remind himself of exactly when and where he is. Two years past the last time he’d seen Donghyuck, two thousand miles away. 

“What about you?” Donghyuck asks. “What’ve you been up to since you got here?”

Renjun swallows. What _has_ he done since graduating? “Well Jaemin and I drove everything here in Patience - all of _my_ stuff, that is, since his parents brought his - so it wasn’t too bad to upack or anything, but it took a while to get settled, I guess. I didn’t do too much exploring at first, so you’ve probably already seen more than I did when I first got here.”

“Really?”

“Mm.”

“Wh- oh, turn at the next left. Why?”

Renjun moves a hand to tap the blinker. _It was too much change all at once._ “Our first night here, our roommate recommended a drama for ‘breaking in the couch’ and we ended up getting really into it so we spent like all of week one just holed up together watching it, playing board games and trying to get our shit straight.”

“Roommate sounds like a fun guy.”

“He is,” Renjun finds himself defending, “just low-key.”

“Qwirkle for game night low-key?”

“You say that like it’s a bad thing.”

“Holy shit do you actually play it?” 

“Yes. What’s the next turn?”

“Right in a half-mile,” Donghyuck says. “I have to meet this roommate. Did he have the game when he moved in or did one of you _buy_ it?”

“It was a house-warming gift from his sister. I think it was supposed to be a joke, but it ended up being a pretty good present.”

Donghyuck lets out a breath. “Maybe the coast _has_ changed you.” 

“Shut the fuck up. It’s just a game.”

Donghyuck’s voice is a little too loud when he says, “Roger! Just a game. There’s your turn up there.”

They’re quiet for a short stretch, an old hit playing through the speakers the only sound in the car. “What about bigger picture stuff?” Donghyuck asks. “How’ve you been?”

“I’ve been good,” Renjun says, autopilot. That’s how he’s supposed to answer, right? 

“That it?”

“Do you want me to say my life is crap?”

“Of course not.” Donghyuck sounds offended by the mere notion. “I just mean like… are you gonna elaborate or is that all I get? Oh, turn right at this light and we’re almost there.”

“Right.” Renjun’s brows furrow and he tries to think of things to say. 

“Don’t overthink it,” Donghyuck says, softened by the hint of a laugh. “What do you like to do for fun these days?”

“Art.” The answer is rolling off Renjun’s tongue before he can second guess it.

“Still?” They come to a stop behind a short line of cars at the red light and Renjun chances a glance at Donghyuck. He’s looking at Renjun, smiling.

Renjun looks away, eyes on the road. “Yeah,” he says. “I have an instagram for posting pictures of my stuff, but it’s mostly just for fun. I work a couple hours a week at a craft store just for the employee discount.” 

“Always thrifty,” Donghyuck hums. “You work somewhere else too, then?”

“I worked a seasonal thing over the summer and one of the guys there told me about this Chinese immersion charter school in the area, and I ended up assistant teaching some of the more basic classes there and tutoring kids in the advanced ones after school. It was kind of a test run the first semester, but they added me to the staff officially for this one.”

“You’re really teaching?” Donghyuck sounds impressed. “I bet that’s a good look on you.”

Renjun shrugs. “I don’t know if it’s like... _the_ thing I wanna do, but it’s nice. I like a lot of the kids.”

“That’s nice.” Donghyuck says it like he means it.

“Yeah. It’s straight for a while here, right? I think I know how to get the rest of the way there now.”

“Looks like two-ish miles on this road and then we’re basically there.”

“Cool, cool.” Renjun bites his lip and taps the wheel. “What about you?”

“What about me?”

“What’ve you been doing? What’s your restaurant like?”

“The restaurant is really nice,” Donghyuck says, and Renjun can hear the small smile in his voice. “It’s basically a nine to five, but in a kitchen instead of an office, and it’s not soul-draining. The owner comes in a lot to make sure things are going well, and she’s kind of intimidating, but in a really cool way. She and my manager are both like, crazy baller ladies. Everyone there respects them so much.”

“Hey, that’s great!” Renjun says. “It sounds like you really lucked out and dodged a bullet with that. I’m glad.” Renjun hopes Donghyuck knows he really means it.

“Yeah,” Donghyuck nods along. “The sous-chef is really nice too. He’s like an actual ray of sunshine or something.”

“Wow,” Renjun whistles lowly. Coming from Donghyuck, that’s impressive.

“For real. Wow. I’ve never met such a bright guy before. It totally makes up for the head chef; that guy is so serious, he looks angry all the time. Chan - he’s the line chef I work with - says that Jihoon is just like that because he’s _passionate about his food_ , and I wanna say he could be passionate about his cooking without looking like he’s ready to commit a murder, but his food _is_ to die for.”

Renjun tries to stifle a snicker, saying “That’s a lame joke,” but Donghyuck catches him regardless.

“A lame joke that you laughed at,” he says, clearly proud of himself.

“Whatever helps you sleep at night,” Renjun says in weak defense. For some reason, he’s really not too upset about Donghyuck pulling a laugh out of him. It’s one of the things he’d loved most about being with Donghyuck before, after all.

There’s a beat of silence, Donghyuck basking in his small victory and Renjun trying not to think too hard about old times. “So work is good, then?” 

Donghyuck’s basking comes to an end as he nods in answer. “It is. It’s only been a couple weeks, but I’m actually really happy there so far. You know college kind of killed my foodie side, but when I went travelling with Johnny, we got to eat all this different food and I learned how to prepare all these new things, and it got me really excited about cooking again. So it all worked out pretty well, honestly.” 

“That’s great! I’m glad you got what you wanted out of it.”

“Yeah,” Donghyuck says softly.

Another beat of silence drops between them, and Renjun can feel them both starting to think about why Donghyuck had left, about what he had left behind. “So how was it?” Renjun says, to clear the air and because he _is_ painfully curious about what Donghyuck and his brother had gotten up to. “How was travelling and everything?”

“Oh, it was crazy.” Donghyuck grows animated in his seat, tension dispelled just like that. “I almost died in York!”

“Why does that not surprise me? Like, at all.”

“Because you know me so well,” Donghyuck says without pause, maybe without thinking. A beat in the conversation falls through as Donghyuck seems to realize what he’s said, but he recovers quickly. “When we get to the shop, I can show you pictures. If you want to see.”

“Sure. I hope there’s a story to go with that claim of near-death too.”

Donghyuck puts on his best faux-offended look - not that Renjun looks away from the road to see it. “Do you really have so little faith in me?”

Renjun purses his lips. “I do seem to remember a time that you told me you’d gotten proof of alien contact and then refused to elaborate for a week until I stole all your shoes.”

“Okay that was _one_ time.” Donghyuck whines. “I thought it was funny.”

Renjun doesn’t dignify that with a response.

“You have to admit that me chasing you across campus in flipflops in February was funny at least.”

Renjun cracks a grin. “It was irresponsible. You could’ve gotten sick. Or gotten frostbite or something.”

“It was funny,” Donghyuck insists. “I still remember the look on your face when I started booking it towards you. Would’ve been worth it even if I had gotten sick.”

Something in Renjun’s chest squeezes, and he has to swallow back whatever’s threatening to rise up his throat. “Sure, Hyuck,” he surrenders just to change the topic. “So are you gonna tell me this story or what?”

“Hmm.” Renjun can already hear the teasing in Donghyuck’s voice. “Once we get our orders.”

Renjun lets out a long suffering sigh. “I’m holding you to that.”

Donghyuck is unbothered. “Of course. You got this turn coming up?”

“Yeah, I got it.” Renjun hits his blinker. “Aside from almost dying in Europe, how was it?”

“It was kinda rough at first actually,” Donghyuck admits. The honesty throws Renjun off-balance, and his stomach twists. “The time zone changes really fucked me up.” Donghyuck lets out a suspiciously forced sounding laugh that only makes the twisting of Renjun’s stomach worse. He has a feeling the jetlag wasn’t the only reason Donghyuck was having a hard time at the beginning of his trip. His flight had left not even three weeks after the end of term. Not even three weeks after their breakup had hit them both with painfully little warning. 

“Jetlag’s a bitch,” Renjun says weakly.

“Yeah,” Donghyuck agrees, half-hearted. Even with the radio playing, silence settles over them with a weight until Donghyuck’s phone chirps to let him know his destination is right ahead. He jumps a little in his seat and is quick to cancel the route. “Looks like we’re here!” His voice has a forced brightness to it. 

Renjun pretends not to notice. “Hopefully there’s no line at this hour. You can tell me all the places you went while we wait if there is, though.”

“Cool, yeah,” Donghyuck nods.

Renjun drives into the small lot near the building their coffee shop is nestled in and finds a spot to park. He backs the car into place and cuts the engine, radio dying in the middle of a bright, pop-y chorus. Real silence washes over them, so Renjun wastes no time popping his door open and stepping out into the fading daylight. 

Donghyuck emerges from the car right after, and Renjun locks it as soon as the passenger door slams shut. “Doesn’t look too crowded,” Donghyuck says, looking through the front window of the shop. 

“Perfect.” Renjun heads towards the door, and Donghyuck follows a step behind. “Last time I was here it was way too loud inside. College kids are unbearable.”

“You say that like you weren’t _just_ a college kid,” Donghyuck laughs. This time it’s genuine.

“Maybe, but I’m not _anymore_ , and that’s what counts. Almost a year free at this point, so I think I’m allowed.”

“Whatever makes you happy.” Donghyuck pauses as Renjun tugs the coffee shop door open, before adding, “You’re lucky I got my final credits done last semester, or I’d be offended now.”

Renjun spins to face Donghyuck, unable to mask the surprise on his face, and hopes the action comes off at least a little bit like pausing to hold the door open. “You did?”

Donghyuck smiles, ducking his head as he steps into the shop. _Shy._ “I did.”

Renjun lets the door fall shut behind them and reaches out to give Donghyuck’s shoulder a friendly shove. “That’s great! I’m happy for you.” He’s smiling when he says it, hopes Donghyuck knows he really means it. 

Donghyuck’s smile grows and he sucks his lower lip into his mouth to try and hide it. Cheeks tinted pink, he looks pleased, if a bit embarrassed. “Thanks.” 

“How’d you get it done?” They walk forward to the counter and Renjun has the belated realization that Donghyuck can’t explain and order at the same time. “Oh, sorry. After we sit down, okay?”

“Mhm.”

The barista manning the counter takes their orders - a hot vanilla chocolate and a peppermint tea, caffeine free - and shuffles off to start making the drinks. Renjun is about to suggest a table by the window with an exposed bulb hanging over it when Donghyuck spins away from the counter and tips his head back, sighing like he’s auditioning for a drama. 

“ _Ah_ ,” he sighs again, “I shouldn’t have looked at the desert display.”

Renjun laughs through his nose and shakes his head. “You could get one when she brings our drinks over.”

“No, I promised Jisung I’d cook for him tonight and if I’m not hungry when I get back I simply won’t do it.” Donghyuck knocks his knuckles against his forehead. “The cookies look fucking _good_ though.”

“We should come back so you can try them some time.” The suggestion slips out before Renjun fully realizes the implications. “The oatmeal raisin here is next level.”

“I had my eyes on the double chocolate chip, but now that you said that I want both,” Donghyuck says, sounding distraught. He wallows for a moment before snapping his fingers and seemingly curing himself. “Next time. We can get them both.” 

His eyes are so bright when he turns to Renjun with this proposition that Renjun wouldn’t be able to say no even if he wanted to. (He doesn’t.) “Sounds like a plan.”

The barista returns to the counter with their drinks and Renjun points Donghyuck to the table he’s been eyeing. They walk across the small shop and sit by the window, chairs opposite each other, the light fixture overhead bathing them in warm light close to the same gold that will soon paint the sky outside. 

Donghyuck takes a test sip of his hot chocolate, and makes a face when it burns his tongue. 

Renjun resists the urge to laugh, and simply smiles as he blows at the steam rising from his tea. “So,” he starts, “I think you have a few stories to share?”

Donghyuck seems to forget all about his sore tongue, and leans forward, forearms on the table as he draws himself closer to Renjun. His eyes are so bright, even without the glint of the overhead light shining in them. “Which did you want first?”

“Hmm,” Renjun pretends to debate, just to see Donghyuck grow antsy with eagerness, “I want to know how you pulled off finishing last semester. I didn’t think it was possible.”

“So little faith, Renjun!” Donghyuck shakes his head, but his lips are tugging up at the edges. “I took two online courses while I was travelling with Johnny- I _did_! Don’t make that face at me! It was mostly just reading shit and then writing papers or whatever. Gave me stuff to do when we took the train or something. Ah, why do you look like you don’t believe me?”

“I do! I do-” Renjun tries to school the surprise from his face “-I just thought that the whole point of leaving was to, y’know, not be in school?”

Donghyuck shrugs. “It was just two classes,” he dismisses. 

Renjun can tell that’s all he’s going to get on the matter, so he nods, accepting the answer, and motions for Donghyuck to continue, letting the question fall away. 

Donghyuck opens his mouth as if to speak, but raises his cup to his lips instead. He takes another test sip of his hot chocolate and _ah’_ s appreciatively. “Oh wow I wasn’t sure if the vanilla thing was going to work, but it totally does.” At Renjun’s unimpressed look, he sets the cup down again and snaps his fingers. “Right. Stories to tell. So after we got back from the trip, I took a couple of summer courses, and then I just had to do the rest last semester and that was it. That’s the abridged version of it.” 

Renjun takes a long sip of his tea, running the timeline Donghyuck has laid out through his head. “Was it snowing when you graduated?”

“Yeah.” Donghyuck’s eyes go faraway for a moment before he snaps back. “Made for some good pictures.” He hesitates. “Do you want to see?”

Renjun nods, fast enough to betray the eagerness he doesn’t voice. 

Donghyuck’s face breaks into a smile and he pulls his phone out, unlocking it and starting to scroll through his camera roll. After a minute, he seems to have found what he’s looking for. Instead of setting his phone in the middle of the table like Renjun expects, Donghyuck swings his chair around so he’s sitting next to Renjun, leaning just to the edge of his space and holding his phone up between them. “Here,” he says, turning up the brightness so Renjun can get a good look at the picture.

Donghyuck is standing center screen in his cap and gown, dusted in snow, clutching his diploma in one hand and a thin bouquet of roses in the other. He’s looking right into the camera smiling with his mouth closed, but there’s a hint of his two front teeth peaking out. It’s the same kind of smile Donghyuck had shown Renjun after delivering the news of his graduation at the coffee shop door: a private kind of pleased, a bit of honest pride in himself.

Renjun knows at least some (more than he can probably admit) of what it took for Donghyuck to get to this picture. He understands the look on Donghyuck’s face, and it makes his chest tighten and burn. It makes him smile, too. Renjun wants to wrap Donghyuck up in a hug and ignore the ache that comes as the shadow to all this light. He doesn’t move at all, though, just lets the smile split across his face. “You look happy,” he says softly, hoping more fondness seeps into his voice than regret. 

“Yeah,” Donghyuck murmurs. Renjun can feel Donghyuck’s eyes on him, heavy for a moment, before the weight falls away. “I was also freezing my ass off.” He swipes to the next picture, and in this one, he’s laughing, looking at something off-camera. Another swipe, and Donghyuck is no longer alone in-frame. 

“Oh my god, is that Mark?” Renjun leans in closer to squint at the picture. 

Donghyuck’s voice is warm when he says, “Yeah, it is.”

The picture shows Donghyuck dragging Mark in for a hug, his roses now slightly squished in the same arm that’s holding his diploma to his chest. Donghyuck is mid-laugh, and Mark is grinning ear to ear. Another swipe shows Mark glued to Donghyuck’s side, the cap knocked off Donghyuck’s head and Mark’s hand ruffling his hair. 

The ache in Renjun’s chest grows, spreads like a blooming flower, but he still can’t stop smiling. “These are great.”

“Johnny took some better ones too, but I like these more,” Donghyuck says. He swipes again and in this picture, Johnny has joined Donghyuck and Mark. He’s got a painfully proud smile on his face and an arm tight around Donghyuck’s shoulder. In the next picture, Mark is holding Donghyuck’s diploma and flowers, and Donghyuck is on Johnny’s back with his arms in the air. There’s snow blotting the edges of the camera frame, a thin layer of it in everyone’s hair, and Donghyuck was right; it _does_ make for great pictures. 

That must be the last shot Donghyuck wants to show him, because he lets the screen of his phone go dark and sets it down on the table to gulp down his hot chocolate. “Um,” he says when he’s swallowed at least half his cup, “yeah. So I graduated.”

“I’m so happy for you,” Renjun says. He turns in his chair so he’s facing Donghyuck, sees that his cheeks are rosy again and he’s struggling to maintain eye contact. Renjun places a light hand on Donghyuck’s wrist, and this seems to help his eyes lock on Renjun’s. “Really. Congratulations.”

Donghyuck sucks on his lower lip and the pink in his cheeks deepens, spreads to his ears. “Thanks.” His voice is low, and he looks away again under the guise of taking another long gulp of hot chocolate. 

Renjun lifts his hand from Donghyuck’s wrist to wrap it around his own cup, mirroring Donghyuck and drinking his tea to excuse the silence. “Is Mark back in Vancouver still?” Renjun asks when they’ve both set their drinks back on the table.

Donghyuck nods. “He’s getting masters now, still wants to be an English teacher and _maybe get one of his books published some day_.” Donghyuck says this last bit in what is clearly meant to be an endeared mockery of Mark. 

“And he’s doing well?”

Again, Donghyuck nods. “He’s killing it- absolutely fucking capable at everything he does, the jerk.”

Renjun laughs. “That’s good to hear. It’s really nice that he was able to come back for your graduation.” He trails off, an unspoken, _I’m sorry the rest of us weren’t there_ , held behind his lips. 

“Yeah,” Donghyuck agrees. “Johnny let him use his frequent flyer miles - wait, and get this: he didn’t even use them all! I even used them to fly out here twice and there were still some left. Our trip last year really raked them in I guess!”

This sparks something in Renjun’s memory. “Your trip!” He turns to face Donghyuck and swats his shoulder. “You have to tell me about your trip. How did you almost die in, what was it? York?”

“Oh my god, yeah.” Donghyuck launches into the story and the tightness in Renjun’s chest begins to loosen, the ache of knowing he wasn’t there for such an important moment for Donghyuck - that he didn’t even _know_ about it until now - fades as Donghyuck’s voice washes over him. 

“So we were on the bridge, right, and I had one of those moments were your brain just spits out some stupid crazy idea and you’re like _what the fuck? no!_ But the thing is, I was overtired from staying up to work on an assignment for the whole train ride there, so my motor control was all fucked and when I tried to move away from the edge I accidently bumped into some guy who was trying to get past us, and I ended up tripping right into the rail and almost going over it. I probably would have if Johnny hadn’t caught me.”

“I don’t know if that would have killed you,” Renjun says. In truth, he’s not actually too skeptical of Donghyuck’s story, but he’s used to challenging Donghyuck on these kinds of dramatics, and slips back into it like a habit he’d never fully shaken.

Donghyuck takes it in stride. “You don’t understand. I was so tired that even if the fall hadn’t killed me, I would’ve just drowned in the river. But also I think the fall could’ve done it.”

“Mm,” Renjun hums, not pushing back at Donghyuck’s statement, not agreeing with it either.

Donghyuck makes a face at Renjun as he finishes off the rest of his tea. “I’m gonna find a picture of the bridge to prove it to you. I’m _right_.” Donghyuck downs the rest of his hot chocolate in one go and slams the cup back down on the table, determination etched across his face. 

The barista sends them a weary look, and Renjun has the decency to be mildly embarrassed before Donghyuck speaks again and he forgets all about the few other people in the coffee shop. 

“Fuck, I forgot how many pictures I have from the trip,” Donghyuck says, phone screen blurred as he scrolls through his camera roll.

“Looks like you might not be able to prove it, then.” Renjun’s voice is bordering on teasing.

“Oh I will,” Donghyuck promises. “It’ll just take me- oh, shit.” Donghyuck’s scrolling comes to an abrupt halt as a text notification drops down on his screen. “Fuck? Is it really that late?”

Renjun looks past Donghyuck to the window, and finds that the sky is almost all black, save for a few traces of red glowing in the clouds. Everything is lit in the artificial glow of street lamps, storefronts, and the lights pouring out of building windows. 

Time must have gotten away from them while they talked.

“Jisung is asking if I’m gonna be home soon. Says he’s hungry already, little devil.” Donghyuck twists to face Renjun, and seems almost surprised to find Renjun’s eyes already on him. “Can I ask you to drive me home?”

Renjun doesn’t hesitate. “Of course. I dragged you all the way out here, anyway. Just feed me directions.”

Donghyuck melts with relief. “Thank you so much.” 

“No problem,” Renjun says, standing from his seat and grabbing his empty cup from the table. “You’re not crazy far out, though, right?”

“Uh-” Donghyuck seems uncertain, but shakes his head “-I don’t think so. I’ll double check when we get to the car.”

“Cool, okay.”

Donghyuck snags his cup from the table as well, stuffs his phone into the back pocket of his jeans, and the two of them head for the coffee shop door, tossing their cups in the bin on the way out. It’s a quick walk across the lamplit parking lot to Renjun’s car, and in no time they’re buckled and waiting for the engine to warm enough for hot air to blow through the vents. 

“Okay,” Donghyuck looks up from his phone, voice raised above the music pouring from the car speakers, “I’ve got the route going. It’s not too far.” He turns the phone screen for Renjun to see, and it’s close to a twenty minute drive. At this hour, though, they might be able to make it in even less. 

“Looks good.” Renjun shifts out of park and they’re on their way. As they leave the lot, an old song Renjun remembers Donghyuck loving comes on the radio, so he stays silent and lets Donghyuck lip-sync to his heart’s content. 

For a few minutes, they only talk if Donghyuck has a direction to give to Renjun, and it’s strange how easy the silence feels. Renjun tries to focus on the road to avoid thinking about how familiar it still feels to be with Donghyuck like this, even after so much time has passed. When Donghyuck’s song comes to a close, Renjun is quick to fill the silence again. He asks the easiest question he can think of. “How old is Jisung now?”

“Oh you had to ask.” Donghyuck lets out a breath of laughter. “He’s gotta be… twenty-one? Yeah. Right! Just turned twenty-one last month. Kid actually waited until his birthday to have his first drink.”

“Good for him,” Renjun says, “I don’t get why everyone’s so eager to drink so young. It’s really not all that.”

Another laugh from Donghyuck. “I remember.” He pauses. “I also remember _your_ twenty-first birthday, though.”

Renjun is suddenly eternally grateful for the darkness of night, for the soft veil it lays over his skin so Donghyuck can’t see that his cheeks are burning. “We don’t need to talk about that.”

“Aw.” Renjun can _hear_ the cheeky pout in Donghyuck’s voice. “It’s such a good story though.”

“I respectfully disagree.” Renjun tries not to let embarrassment seep into his voice, but Donghyuck’s making soft wheezing sounds like he’s just barely suppressing laughter, so it’s clear Renjun’s attempts are unsuccessful. “I would also like to point out that we’re in _my_ car right now.” There’s no bite to the words, no real threat of him kicking Donghyuck out for teasing, but the comment does the trick; Donghyuck goes quiet within a verse of song playing on the radio.

“Anyway… why do you ask?”

Renjun hums, “Just curious why you baby him.”

“Who says I baby him?” Donghyuck sounds appalled by the suggestion, so Renjun knows it’s dead on.

“You didn’t have to say it.”

Donghyuck’s voice is much quieter when he says a small, “ _oh_ ,” in response, and Renjun almost doesn’t hear it over the radio. He wonders if maybe he wasn’t meant to hear it at all. Wonders if he’s overstepped. 

“Well don’t go telling anyone,” Donghyuck says, voice louder again, joking. “I have a reputation to uphold.”

“Of course. I’ll take this to my grave.” Renjun grins in the dark, worry drifting past him like the streetlights lining the road. “I would never dream of telling anyone that you’re secretly a caring, sentimental sap.”

“I hope that’s the truth Renjun Huang! If it’s not, I might end up letting it slip that you’re just as bad.”

Renjun gasps, “You wouldn’t.”

“Of course, of course,” Donghyuck says, honey-sweet. “Your lips stay sealed and so will mine. No one ever has to know our dark secret.” 

Renjun can’t help but laugh. “Perfect. It’s too late to hide it from Jaemin, but there’s still a chance Jeno never has to know.”

“Ah, is that your no fun roommate?” There’s a note of _something_ in Donghyuck’s voice when he asks, but Renjun doesn’t know what to make of it, thinks maybe he’s just hearing things.

“Yeah,” Renjun nods. “He’s really not boring, but yeah.”

“I feel like the jury is still out on that,” Donghyuck says. His voice is back to normal. Renjun must have been hearing things.

“You’ve never even met him.”

“He’s got you and Jaemin playing board games and spending days on the couch watching TV- not exactly the most exciting stuff.”

“You’re so full of it. Like we never did any of that in school?”

“We also went to parties,” Donghyuck reasons.

“ _You_ went to parties because you’re an extrovert, Hyuck. I just got dragged along. Sometimes a little peace and quiet is good for the soul.” Renjun can’t see, but somehow he _knows_ Donghyuck is making a face at him. “And don’t act like you didn’t love our puzzle nights, because I know you did.” 

Donghyuck huffs, “No comment.”

Renjun grins. That’s one point for him. “Besides, Jeno’s really not that bad. I mean, he _is_ a taurus, but it works for him.”

“Renjun, you’re literally an _aries_. That’s worse.”

“No one can be perfect.”

Donghyuck snorts, then laughs out loud. “Fine. I’ll give him the benefit of the doubt if it matters that much to you.”

“I appreciate it.”

Donghyuck is quiet for a minute, and Renjun thinks that’ll be the end of it, but just as he’s about to change the topic, Donghyuck asks, “Are you sure he doesn’t already know you’re a big softie?”

“He’d better not,” Renjun says, joking. Well, _mostly_ joking. 

“I dunno. If you’re defending him to a stranger… I have to imagine you’ve already blown your cover by now.”

“You’re not a stranger,” Renjun responds without thinking.

“To-” Donghyuck sounds just shy of flustered “-I mean to him.”

“Oh.” Renjun’s cheeks burn again. He knows it’s irrational for him to care what Donghyuck thinks of Jeno when he’s never even met him, but he can’t help it. He wants Donghyuck to like Jeno, even if he can’t explain why. Donghyuck is just like that - has always been good at making Renjun feel things that don’t make perfect sense.

“But I’ll still hold up my end of the deal,” Donghyuck says.

Renjun almost has to ask _what deal?_ before he remembers. _I won’t spill the beans on you if you don’t spill them on me._ “My hero.” There’s just enough jest to the flatness of Renjun’s delivery for Donghyuck to know it’s all in good spirit. 

Donghyuck lets out a small laugh, just loud enough to hear over the music, and they fall into silence for a minute. The radio switches to ads, and Donghyuck leans forward to try a different preset button. It takes him three tries to find music again, and he makes a satisfied sound when he finally succeeds. He’s just starting to give Renjun another direction off the map on his phone when it buzzes in his hand.

“Ah, this kid,” he sighs, but Renjun can hear the fondness in it. “Were _we_ bottomless pits of hunger junior year?”

“Define bottomless,” Renjun says, “because I know you could put away food like a beast, but I also remember you crashing on my bed and refusing to move for hours after.”

“Hours sounds like a stretch,” Donghyuck protests lightly, “but I’m talking literal human form of a vacuum cleaner. I’ll cook enough food to feed a whole family and there aren’t even leftovers by the next night. Talking whole tubs of ice cream vanishing from the freezer in two days flat. I’ve had to start hiding my snacks because if he finds them they all disappear like _that_.” He snaps his fingers together. “It’s insane.”

“How tall is he again?”

“Like five-eleven?”

“I guess there’s your answer.”

“That’s not _that_ tall.”

“Well you’re either living with a goblin or just a hungry kid with a whole lot of body to feed who knows your cooking is top notch. Take your pick.”

“Actually, I think you’re onto something with the goblin theory,” Donghyuck says, typing a quick response into his phone.

“Oh, god, what did you just tell the poor kid?”

“Relax,” Donghyuck laughs, “it’s nothing I haven’t said to him before.”

“Why does that not make me feel better at all?”

“Do you really have so little faith in me?”

“Did you just tell your cousin he’s an insatiable goblin?”

Donghyuck is silent a beat too long. “Not in those words. Exactly.”

“My point.”

“Okay, okay,” Donghyuck sighs. “Left at this light. Maybe you have an accurate amount of faith in me.”

“Just maybe?”

Donghyuck fixes Renjun with a _look_ that he can feel even in the dark, even without taking his eyes off the road. “Don’t push your luck.” There’s no bite to the words.

“I wouldn’t dream of it.” A beat of silence, nothing but the radio playing a slow song and the blur of lights streaking past the windows. “Does Jisung at least cook for himself as much as you do?”

“That’s funny,” Donghyuck laughs, “I really don’t know how he survived before I moved out here. I’m convinced that when left unsupervised all he does is cook noodles and microwave food packs. Like, there wasn’t a _single_ vegetable in the fridge when I came to visit him. He’s absolutely hopeless in the kitchen.”

“Oh, man, I was gonna try to defend him saying that we didn’t all go to vocational schools to learn the fine culinary arts instead of plain old highschool, but that is kind of a nightmare,” Renjun finds himself agreeing. He’s no formally trained master chef, but even he knows the value and simplicity of steamed greens. “Were there at least fruits?”

“Yeah, thank fuck. I think I would have lost it if there hadn’t been. He’s big on melons which I don’t really get, but tastes, y’know? And then we have normal stuff too.”

“Are melons a weird thing to like?”

“Not weird just… inconvenient. They take up so much space on the counter and in the fridge after he cuts them.”

“Ah.” Renjun makes a sympathetic sound at this. “I get that actually. Jaemin clobbers a whole shelf with watermelon when it’s in season.”

“Fuck, I remember that. Does he still slice them all weird? He used to do that right?”

“God you mean the peeling? Yeah, he still does it sometimes for the novelty of it.” Renjun glances over at Donghyuck as they slow for a stop sign. “I can’t believe you remember that.”

“Trust me, I wish I could forget. Watermelon just isn’t supposed to look like a giant pink egg without a shell.” 

“I want to say it gets less weird the more you see it, but it really doesn’t,” Renjun laughs. “Our roommate looked so confused the first time he saw one Jaemin’d left on the counter, I think Jaemin almost died laughing. You’d think that’s why he still does it sometimes - just to see the reaction - but I think he really just thinks it’s cool.”

Donghyuck lets out an easy laugh. “Damn, maybe it’s a good thing your roommate is bor-” he cuts himself off “-chill. Sounds like your apartment would just be chaos with another big personality in it.”

“You have no idea. We- oh, hey, I recognize this neighborhood.”

“Yeah? We’re pretty close to my apartment now.”

“Really?” Renjun glances out the window at the dark buildings. “I swear I’ve been here before for something.”

“Oh, huh.” Donghyuck shoots him a curious look. “Maybe it’ll come to you later.”

“Right, yeah.” Renjun focuses on the road again. “We turn any time soon?”

“Up there,” Donghyuck says.

In five minutes, Donghyuck’s phone is declaring the route complete and he’s pointing Renjun to an empty curb where he can pull up and let Donghyuck out. They come to a stop under a streetlight and Renjun puts the car in park, unlocks it. The radio turns to ads, so Renjun kills the power.

Donghyuck makes no move to open his door. “Can I get your number? I finally got a phone that’s not shit when I graduated so...”

Renjun blinks for a moment, processing. In the half-light, he can see the hopeful look on Donghyuck’s face as he asks, and Renjun is helpless. (He wouldn’t have said no anyway.)

“Yeah,” he nods. “Yeah. Of course.”

Donghyuck smiles as Renjun fishes his phone out of the pocket of his hoodie and unlocks it, opening his contacts and passing it to Donghyuck. He gets Donghyuck’s phone in return, and thumbs in his number and display name, adding a little smiling emoticon at the end of it because the afternoon has left him feeling hopeful. He saves the contact and hands Donghyuck’s phone back to him just as Donghyuck is finishing the same task.

Donghyuck pockets his phone, but still makes no move for the door. “I’m really glad we ran into each other,” he says. His eyes glitter even in the low light.

“Me too,” Renjun admits. “It was really nice catching up with you.”

Another smile from Donghyuck. “We should do this again some time. Like, actually. Not just say we will and never do it.”

“Yes,” Renjun nods right away. “I want to see you again.”

It’s dark in the car, but Donghyuck’s smile is so bright it’s dazzling. “I want to see you too.”

Their confessions hang there in the air between them, and it grows thick, almost tangible. Renjun doesn’t want to be the one to break it, wants to soak in Donghyuck’s presence as long as Donghyuck will let him. After this, after spending the afternoon together, he can no longer pretend that he hasn’t missed Donghyuck these past two years. 

He _has_. He’s missed Donghyuck so much that some days it felt like a physical pain. Though time had dulled the sharpness of the invisible injury, it had never faded away completely. Renjun has carried it like a scar across his chest, the kind of dull ache that worsens with rainfall. 

Loving and losing Donghyuck had left a permanent mark pressed into Renjun’s heart.

“I should probably go,” Donghyuck finally says. The heavy air between them thins like parting fog. 

“Yeah,” Renjun nods. 

Donghyuck reaches for the door handle. “I’ll text you,” he says as he pushes the door open. 

“Okay.” Renjun tries not to crane his neck to watch Donghyuck slide out of his seat and step onto the curb. 

“Thanks for the ride!” Donghyuck’s hand is on the edge of the door, but he doesn’t close it. 

“It was no problem, really.”

Donghyuck shakes his head. “Still.” He stands there a moment, works his lower lip between his teeth. “I’ll see you soon,” Donghyuck says.

“Yeah.” Renjun feels like he’s sealing a deal, making a promise. “I’ll see you.”

Donghyuck nods once and then he’s giving the door a light push, letting it fall shut again. He offers Renjun one last wave before turning on his heel and walking towards the apartment complex. 

Renjun watches him go, waits until Donghyuck has made it all the way inside to tear his eyes away. He lets out a heavy breath, and looks down to the phone in his hand. He unlocks it and is greeted by Donghyuck’s contact. At the end of his display name, Donghyuck has put a little star. The sight of it makes Renjun smile, small and disbelieving, in the darkness of his car. 

Donghyuck is here. Donghyuck isn’t a stranger, doesn’t want to be one. Donghyuck marked his contact name in Renjun’s phone with a star. Somehow, Donghyuck has come back to him. 

This time, Renjun won’t let him go again so easily.

Renjun drags in a deep breath, holds it, breathes out. He navigates to the maps app on his phone and sets a route back to his own apartment. It’s not far at all. Renjun makes sure the volume is turned up on his phone, and sets it on the center console. He puts the car in drive and pulls away from the curb, following the directions as the automated voice in his phone spits them out. 

Driving in silence, Renjun’s thoughts wander. It’s lucky, then, that he needs to focus on the road, that the drive isn’t long enough for him to sink so deep into his own head that he gets lost. Soon enough, he’s reached his own apartment building, can leave his car and the thoughts and memories swirling within it. 

✨

Keys jangling in his pocket, knocking against his phone and wallet, Renjun takes the stairs up to the third floor. Down the hall from the stairwell, he unlocks the door to his apartment, steps inside. In the threshold, he toes off his sneakers, hangs his keys on his peg on the wall, locks the door behind himself.

“Yo, Renjun,” a voice calls to him from the main room. 

“Yeah,” he calls back, padding across the floor, past the kitchen and around the corner.

“You’re back late. For you,” Jaemin says from the table. He’s sitting with Jeno, eating leftovers right out of the tupperware.

“I know.” Renjun comes to a stop there at the end of the short hall, knows that if he sits down he won’t get back up again until he’s poured pieces of himself he usually keeps hidden (veiled, really- he’s more open that he lets himself admit) out into the open for his friends to see. “You’re never gonna fucking guess who I ran into at the beach.”

Jaemin perks up, back going straight and focus temporarily leaving his food. Jeno casts a curious glance over his shoulder at Renjun. “Who?”

“ _Donghyuck_ ,” Renjun says, a note of shock in his voice. He still can’t quite believe it.

Jaemin’s hand goes loose around the handle of his spoon. “Donghyuck as in _Donghyuck? Lee?_ ”

“The one and only.”

Jaemin shoots up, chair scraping against the floor as he stands. “Dude? What the hell is he doing here? Are you- are you good?”

Jeno twists in his chair, looking between Renjun and Jaemin. “Donghyuck like… your ex? From college?”

Renjun nods. He looks from Jeno to Jaemin, who’s staring at him with wide eyes. 

“Is that why you were gone so long?” Jaemin asks.

“Yeah,” Renjun nods again. He’s suddenly at a loss for what to say.

“Did something happen?”

Another nod. “Yeah.”

Jaemin circles the table like he’s made of wind, comes to a halt almost toe to toe with Renjun before Renjun even processes that he’s moving. Jaemin slaps his hands down on Renjun’s shoulders. “Dude. Are you okay?”

Renjun blinks, feels slightly shell shocked. Jaemin is looking at him like he’s just said he’s seen a ghost. In a way, he figures maybe he has, but Donghyuck is too bright, too warm, too _alive_ to be a ghost. Renjun has seen Donghyuck’s ghost in his memories, in dreams he tries to forget when he wakes in the morning, but this… this was different. This was real. “I’m okay,” he says.

Jaemin keeps piercing eyes on Renjun a moment longer, until he’s satisfied that the answer he’s given is the truth. “Okay.” He lifts his hands from Renjun’s shoulders and takes a step back. “So, what happened? What is he doing here?”

Renjun lets out a breath. “He lives here.”

“He _what_?” 

“He just moved here.” Renjun is hit by a wave of deja vu. “He graduated this winter and moved out to live with his cousin.”

“Dude,” Jaemin says, backing towards the table and sinking into his chair again with a dull thud, “what the fuck.”

“I’m sorry, I’m lost,” Jeno pipes up from his seat. “I can’t tell if these are good _what the fuck_ ’s or bad _what the fuck_ ’s.”

Renjun glances back to Jeno and realizes that he knows next to nothing about Donghyuck and the history Renjun has with him. “Right-” Renjun runs a hand through his hair “-right, sorry.” It’s here that he gives up on fighting the urge to sit down with his friends and spill delicate pieces of his heart to them. He follows Jaemin’s lead, walking over to the open chair waiting for him, and sits down, heavy with something that feels like both resignation and anticipation. 

“Does that look mean what I think it means?” Jaemin asks in between a bite of his leftovers.

“I think so,” Renjun says. He turns his attention to Jeno. “You want to know the story?”

Jeno hesitates, and Renjun can see in his face that he doesn’t want to overstep their boundaries, but eventually he nods anyway. “He was the reason things didn’t work with Lucas, right?” 

Renjun grimaces. “ _I_ was the reason things didn’t work with Lucas.”

“Ah, okay.” Jeno looks like he chooses his next words carefully. “I didn’t mean to make it sound like he _did_ something to you two, just... all you said then was that you couldn’t be in a relationship yet because of how things had ended with your ex, so…” Jeno trails off with a helpless shrug.

“Yeah,” Renjun sighs, leans back in his chair, stares up at the ceiling for a moment to gather himself. “Fuck, okay.” He glances at Jaemin, watching them with careful eyes, before looking back to Jeno. “I don’t really know where to start.”

“Just… whatever’s easiest. You don’t have to tell me anything you don’t want to.” Jeno offers him a kind smile, and it’s enough to melt away the last of Renjun’s hesitation. 

“Okay,” he nods. “The beginning then?”

Jeno leans forward in his chair, elbow resting on the table. He nods.

“So the short version,” Renjun says, “is that I met Donghyuck pretty much the same time I met Jaemin. Freshman year we were all in the same residence hall. We-” he cuts off, shaking his head “-God that’s not even important. Basically we were friends freshman year, and then over the summer I ended up staying on campus for extra courses since the only other option was spending all summer with my parents visiting relatives in China and that just wasn’t happening, and ‘cuz Donghyuck was like, actually _from_ Chicago and lived nearby, we hung out a lot.”

Jeno nods again to show he’s listening, and Renjun feels weird reducing the three years he spent with Donghyuck down to a couple sentences, but he pushes through. 

“So just… by the time sophomore year started, we were dating-”

“-Imagine coming back from summer break to discover your roommate’d basically turned your dorm from a double into a triple without even consulting you,” Jaemin cuts in.

“Oh shut it.” Renjun reaches out to smack Jaemin’s arm even as fond, bittersweet memories creep up on him from where he’d tried to push them back into the recesses of his mind. “We weren’t even in the same dorm as freshman year. We were off-campus. There was actually breathing room.”

Jaemin looks like he’s going to protest, so Jeno interjects to get them back on track. “Sophomore year?”

“Right.” Renjun looks back to Jeno and tries to gather his thoughts again, tries to pretend dredging up memories doesn’t hurt just a bit more than it probably should. “Sophomore and junior year we were dating and it was all good, really, really good. I was-” Renjun lets out a breath “-I mean I was really in love with him. And it sounds stupid for me to say it, but he was really in love with me, too.”

Jaemin nods from across the table, a testament to the fact.

“Then I’m confused,” Jeno says, brows furrowing. “Why did you guys break up?”

Renjun runs a hand through his hair again, fingers catching in tangles woven by the wind. “Towards the end of junior year, Donghyuck was having a hard time. His best friend was about to graduate and move away for grad school and his older brother was starting to think about getting serious with his boyfriend and like, settling down and shit, and I guess everything that was happening made Hyuck realize he didn’t actually know what he was doing, or what he wanted to do.”

Jeno lets out a sympathetic breath, though he still looks a bit lost.

“Turns out he’d been taking it all harder than I realized at the time, and like right after we finished our finals and were packing up everything to head home for the summer, he told me his brother was going on a trip around the world - well, Europe and Asia mainly I think - for some photography portfolio for work, and that he was going to go with him.”

“The world in one summer?” Jeno asks, disbelieving.

Renjun shakes his head. “That was the problem. He said they were going to be gone for like eight months. He was taking a year off from school to try and figure out, like, the point of his life or something.”

Understanding starts to seep into Jeno’s face.

“He didn’t want to break up,” Renjun says, eyes fixed on the grain of the table like it’s the most interesting thing in the world. He feels shame rising in his gut as the memory resurfaces. “He really, really wanted to make it work, but I just-” the breath rushes out of Renjun’s lungs and he has to fight to draw it back in “-I just-” Renjun’s throat seizes and he can’t force the words out. 

“Hey, it’s okay. You don’t have to force yourself.”

Renjun chances a glance up from the table and is met with Jeno’s kind eyes. 

“I get the picture,” Jeno says, letting Renjun skip the ending. 

Renjun breathes in and out, measured, careful. “Yeah. We broke up, but I was still in love with him, and I guess I didn’t really get over it. That’s why the thing with Lucas didn’t work; I just wasn’t ready and it wasn’t fair to him.”

“That makes sense,” Jeno nods, and he seems satisfied that he understands the situation for a moment before clouds of confusion roll over his face again. “Wait, okay, I know you just explained everything, but I’m still not totally sure if it’s good or bad that Donghyuck is here now.”

“I think it’s good,” Renjun admits. “I think it might be really good.”

Jaemin slides his empty tupperware across the table and reaches out to grab Renjun’s hand. “So something good happened when you ran into him?”

“Yeah, we went out for coffee and caught up for a bit.” 

“You hate coffee,” Jaemin says. 

“Fine. Technically we went to a coffee shop, but we got tea and hot chocolate.”

“That does sound more like you,” Jeno says.

“How is that the important part of it? Going out for coffee is just a figure of speech, basically.”

“Well you did keep trying coffee during the Lucas thing even though it obviously wasn’t working, so I had to make sure,” Jaemin tells him solemnly.

“Why’d you make it sound like I was dabbling in drugs or something? I literally just had a couple cups of a coffee when we were together.”

“Yeah, and it was a disaster.”

Jeno chimes in with a sincere, “Agreed.”

“Thank you,” Jaemin nods to him. “So if you had actually gotten coffee this time - which your track record wouldn’t rule out - I needed to know so we could prepare for the aftermath.”

“Jesus,” Renjun mutters. “Do I _seem_ like I’m on a caffeine high?”

“You did look super out of it when you got back,” Jeno says, and Jaemin nods.

Renjun wants to hang his head in his hands. He knows his friends mean well, but their execution is just a bit off. “Yeah, because I just spent the afternoon with Donghyuck fucking Lee, not because I drank a cup of coffee.”

Jaemin opens his mouth and Renjun just _knows_ whatever he says will derail the conversation again, so he shoots up from his spot at the table before Jaemin can get the words out of his mouth. “I’m gonna go shower,” he says.

Jaemin shoots him a look that Renjun easily interprets as _this is not over_ , and just as easily ignores. He pushes his chair in and shuffles off towards the bedroom he shares with Jaemin, and - more importantly - the connected bathroom.

Renjun grabs pajamas from the bottom drawer of their dresser and hurries along into the bathroom. Tugging the hoodie over his head, he takes a moment to look at his hair, disheveled now, dark roots growing in under the silvery dye. He’ll have to go back to black soon, when the regrowth gets just long enough that it starts to look weird. He finds that he doesn’t mind, though. 

_At least you look hot with your personal crisis hair_ , Jaemin’s voice echoes in his head. Renjun had insisted the hair had nothing to do with any kind of crisis he most certainly was not having, but Jaemin had gotten him dead to rights. 

It had been mid-October - fucking _libra_ season - and Renjun had just ended the tentative, strained _thing_ with Lucas. It was weird, teaching at the school Lucas had helped him discover in the first place, when he and Lucas were suddenly little more than not-quite-acquaintances-but-not-quite-friends again. Renjun felt like he didn’t deserve to be there, no matter how much Lucas had insisted with every inch of his overwhelmingly kind being that Renjun was still perfect for the job.

So, as if changing the reflection he saw of himself in the mirror would change who he was inside too, Renjun had booked time at a local salon. He could have done it at home, but the thought of showing up to his real, adult job with absolutely botched bleached hair for all the students to laugh at made him want to shrivel up and disappear, so off to the salon he went. He told exactly no one about it, and the look on Jeno and Jaemin’s faces when he’d come home after the appointment had almost made the whole personal crisis worth it. Almost.

Now, four and a half months, two touch-ups, and (Renjun would like to think) some personal growth later, although he’s now used to the color and the way it compliments his look, he’s not sad to realize it’ll have to go soon. He feels like going back to black will be a reset of its own, one that he’s now ready for. The thought is comforting. 

Renjun spends his shower resolutely not thinking about what Jaemin and Jeno will put him through when he emerges again to make himself dinner. He tries not to think about Donghyuck either, but this, he discovers, is much harder than pretending his roommates don’t exist. He ends up showering in record time just to escape being stuck with his thoughts.

By the time Renjun ventures back out of the bathroom, Jeno is no longer sitting at the table. Renjun lets out a small breath of relief at this, but really, Jeno wasn’t the one he was worried about. Jaemin is still right where he’d been when Renjun left, now with his laptop planted in front of him. He tilts down the screen when he catches sight of Renjun.

“Jeno’s working,” he says. 

“Okay.” Renjun walks into the kitchen.

Jaemin looks at him through the interior window that keeps the kitchen from feeling too much like a shoebox. “He said I should apologize for hounding you about the coffee.”

“Are you going to?” 

“Haven’t decided.”

Renjun huffs out a laugh as he fills two pots with water and puts them both on the stove to heat up. “Okay then.”

“It just felt like when you were with-but-not-with Lucas, the coffee thing was you trying to change yourself, so I wanted to make sure you weren’t trying to force anything again,” Jaemin explains.

“Oh… that makes sense, I guess. But you don’t have to worry; I don’t plan on going anywhere near your coffee stores again any time soon.”

“Tight,” Jaemin says. “Coffee is stupid expensive.”

Renjun snorts, and afterwards, Jaemin is silent for long enough that Renjun glances over to see if he’s gone back to whatever he was doing on his laptop. When he looks, though, Jaemin is still watching him.

“What?”

“Is Donghyuck single?”

Renjun blanches. “That definitely did not come up in conversation.”

“Do you want him to be single?”

Renjun goes quiet, eyes dropping to observe the tiny bubbles forming in his pots of water. _Yes_ . The idea of Donghyuck with someone else, of him _loving_ someone else, makes Renjun’s chest tighten so much it’s suddenly hard to breathe. But, “That’s not fair,” he says.

“Feelings aren’t fair.” Jaemin’s voice is steady, and he sounds unbearably sure. 

Renjun hazards a glance up at Jaemin, and finds him looking serious enough to make the whole thing feel painfully _real_. “I broke up with him,” Renjun says.

“It wasn’t that simple and you know it.” 

Renjun turns away from the window, yanks open the fridge and pulls out a bag of broccoli. He sets it down on the counter and readies a knife and cutting board. “What I want doesn’t even matter; it won’t change anything. He either is single or he isn’t.”

Jaemin sighs, and Renjun pretends he can’t hear over the sound of his chopping. “If he _is_ single, then it matters a lot.”

“What, is my life a fucking Taylor Swift song or something?” It comes out snappier than Renjun intends, and he feels guilty right away. “Sorry,” he says quickly. He knows Jaemin is just trying to help. He’s saying what Renjun is thinking, what he’s not quite ready to hear or admit to himself yet.

“I’m not saying it is. Just-” Jaemin cuts off like he’s still trying to figure out the right thing to say “-If there’s a chance for you guys again… don’t let it go too easily, all right?” 

Renjun finishes cutting, sets down the knife, looks at Jaemin over his shoulder. He doesn’t know what to say to the guarded hope on Jaemin’s face, doesn’t know how to deal with the fact that the same hope is blooming in his own chest, unseasonably early and stubborn despite the cold. 

At Renjun’s silence, the look on Jaemin’s face shifts. “Fight for shit you want, man,” Jaemin says. 

“I’m not fighting anyone.”

Jaemin shakes his head. “Not other people. I’m talking about that little logical voice in your head that gets freaked out and tries to run when things get too complicated and overwhelming. Fight that little bastard. He thinks he knows what’s good for you, but he doesn’t.”

“And you do?” Renjun asks. He knows he’s deflecting, but what else can he say?

“Yeah. We’re basically blood brothers at this point, man.” Jaemin leaves no room for doubt. “I know everything.”

When Renjun appears unconvinced, Jaemin’s tone shifts. “Come on, what’s so hard about fighting anyway? You live for that shit. It’s like breathing for you.”

“That’s not true,” Renjun argues.

Jaemin looks at him like this response alone has proved his point. “You’re an aries, aren’t you?”

Renjun glares at him. “Why do you only ever mention astrology when you’re using it against me?”

Jaemin smiles. “That’s the only time it’s fun.”

“Fuck you,” Renjun says, no heat behind the words.

“Any consenting adult in the world would be so lucky.”

Renjun pointedly ignores this, and goes back to preparing his dinner. Jaemin leaves him in peace after that, eventually retreating to the couch to dick around on his computer in solitude while Renjun eats (finally!) and spends the next hour drafting a lesson plan for one of his classes to keep himself distracted. 

When he wraps up his work, Renjun reaches for his phone so he can scroll mindlessly through his apps for a while to keep the distractions coming, only to realize he hasn’t had his phone since showering. He leaves the table to go hunting for it, and though he has no memory of plugging it in to charge, he finds his phone at 100% battery on the bathroom counter, sitting just under the outlet. 

Almost immediately, his plans of distraction fly out the window. He’s just settling down on his bed, wrapped in a blanket and the warm glow of his bedside lamp, when his phone lights up with a notification. He unlocks it to find a text from Donghyuck; it’s a picture of him standing on a grassy slope next to a river, a nondescript bridge in the background. A moment later, a second message pops up. _See? I totally could have died falling off of that._

Renjun smiles in the privacy of his room. _Sure you could’ve._ The message is marked read right away, and dots pop up to show Donghyuck is typing. _Show me some more pictures some time?_ Renjun asks before Donghyuck can start arguing his case again. The dots disappear for a moment before popping back up.

Donghyuck’s reply reads: _I have like 10 thousand pics… define ~some~_

 _Just show me any you like_ , Renjun sends back.

Donghyuck responds with a smiling emoji that seems equal parts excited and evil, like Renjun has just given him permission to unleash hell and he can’t wait. Renjun doesn’t mind though; he’ll take everything Donghyuck is willing to give to him- he’ll welcome it with open arms. He won’t push Donghyuck away, give up before he’s even tried. Not again.

And so he spends the next hour on his phone as it pings with messages from Donghyuck, pictures and stories, little pieces of their time apart on display for Renjun. Each message is a puzzle piece, once blank, now painted with vivid colors. Renjun hopes to collect every single one, to form a full picture of Donghyuck’s last two years, to see all the pieces of Donghyuck that he’d missed. 

The conversation comes to an end only when Donghyuck texts that he needs to help his cousin with _some bullshit coursework because college is a scam_. Renjun wishes him luck, and gets a peace sign emoji back. He thinks that’ll be it, but Donghyuck’s typing bubble pops back onto the screen.

 _This was nice_ , his message says.

 _Yeah_ , Renjun agrees.

 _Talk to you again soon_ , Donghyuck promises. He signs off with one last smiling face, and this time, Renjun doesn’t see it as anything but earnestly happy. 

The warmth in his chest lasts the whole night through.

✨

Donghyuck is true to his word; he texts Renjun again the next day, and again and again. In between stories of his travels overseas, Donghyuck asks Renjun about his days, listens to him talk about his students and his coworkers and his odd Sunday shifts at the craft store. Donghyuck recounts funny moments with his cousin, asks about places he’s seen around town. Renjun answers every question, sends pictures of in-progress paintings, links to music that reminds him of Donghyuck. 

They trade small pieces of their lives, past and present, back and forth like gifts. They learn and relearn each other.

Renjun works the school week through and on Friday afternoon, he calls Donghyuck in his car on the way home. The sky is overcast, but not barely a week into March that’s all anyone can expect of the weather. Donghyuck picks up on the third ring and the bluetooth in Renjun’s car is shit and grainy, but Donghyuck’s voice is still like summer as it comes through the speakers. It’s like the sun has come through the thick layer of clouds and shined down right on Renjun’s old prius.

“What’s up?” Donghyuck greets.

“Do you have plans this weekend?” Renjun asks.

“Seeing a movie with Jisung tonight, but that’s it. Why?”

“Do you want to go try those cookies at Mocha tomorrow? I’ve been craving them all week.”

Renjun can hear the smile in Donghyuck’s voice when he says, “I’d love to.” 

Warmth, all too familiar, blooms in Renjun’s chest. “Does, like, two work for you?”

Donghyuck lets out a sigh that sounds more like a laugh than anything else. “Yeah, I can drag my ass out of bed by then.”

“Don’t overexert yourself,” Renjun jokes.

Donghyuck laughs again. “I’ll manage. Just for you.”

A little thrill shoots down Renjun’s spine and he sits up straighter as he drives. “I’m so grateful.”

“As you should be.”

It’s evident in their voices that they’re both grinning for nearly the entirety of the call after that. Though the conversation shifts back and forth with the wind as Renjun takes himself home, the warmth in it remains the same. 

✨

At 2:02pm on Saturday, Renjun rolls to a stop outside of Donghyuck’s apartment complex. He puts the car in park and bends to switch on the passenger side seat heater before reaching for his phone and sending Donghyuck a text reading simply, _your chariot awaits._

Two minutes later, Donghyuck emerges from the building, head on a swivel until he spots Renjun’s car. Their eyes meet through the window and Donghyuck sends Renjun a bright smile and a hand raised in a wave. Renjun smiles back, lifting a hand from his lap to return the wave. 

As Donghyuck draws closer to the car, Renjun can do nothing but sit and take in the sight of Donghyuck again after a week. He’s wearing jeans, tight and dark. They compliment his creamy sweater, and Renjun’s brain fizzes at the realization that Donghyuck looks _nice._

Of course he thinks Donghyuck always looks nice, but this is different. When they’d met by chance on the beach Donghyuck had been in well-worn light washed jeans and battered sneakers, drowning in a red pullover. He’d looked nice in an I-have-my-life-together grocery run kind of way, in a tired-but-trying student kind of way. 

Right now, with his hair neat and combed, with a dark jacket hugging his shoulders… he looks nice in a heart-skipping-a-beat kind of way.

Renjun hopes the tornado of _he’s almost dressed like it’s a date,_ thoughts spinning through his head don’t show on his face as Donghyuck reaches the passenger door and tugs it open, sliding into the seat next to Renjun. 

“Hey, my ass isn’t freezing,” Donghyuck says in greeting. 

Laughter cuts right through the mess in Renjun’s mind, and he re-centers, comes back to himself just like that. “I turned on the heater before you came down.”

“And they say chivalry is dead.” Donghyuck buckles his seatbelt and places a hand to his heart. 

Renjun scoffs, but he’s fighting a grin. “Next time I’ll just let you freeze.”

“Rude.” Donghyuck shoots back, face twitching like he’s struggling to keep a smile of his own at bay. “When we split the cookies later I’m giving you the smaller halves of both.”

“Oh now you’ve taken it too far.” Renjun tries to sharpen his eyes into a glare, but judging by the undeterred look on Donghyuck’s face, he doesn’t quite succeed. “That’s just inexcusable.”

“Disagree. I’ll do anything to ensure my ass stays as hot as it looks.”

Renjun splutters out a laugh, and, unsure of how to respond, looks away from Donghyuck to focus on the road. “Can you pull the route up on your phone again? I’m like ninety-eight percent sure I know the way, but those two percent…”

“Better not to risk it. Yeah, I got you.” Donghyuck tugs his phone from his pocket and types the destination into his maps app as Renjun drives to the end of the street. “Hey, any chance you get that aux back from your roomie? And it’s a left from here.”

Renjun clicks his blinker and makes the turn. “Actually yeah, it’s in the glovebox.”

“Oh _sweet_!” Donghyuck finds the cord and connects his phone with remarkable enthusiasm. “One of those songs you sent me the other day reminded me of this album I used to listen to in, like, high school. I thought I’d play some of it for you since you might like it.”

“That sounds great,” Renjun says, warmth spreading through him. When the music plays, Renjun is pleased to find that Donghyuck’s prediction of his taste is proved correct. He likes the first song, and the second, and the third, and on and on. He likes the music a lot. 

And it’s not _just_ the music that he likes.

✨

At the coffee shop, Renjun orders his peppermint tea and oatmeal raisin cookie, pays, and thanks the barista when she passes him his cookie in a waxy paper bag. He steps to the side so Donghyuck can place his own order, and is surprised when he asks the barista for not one cookie, but two - double chocolate and a cranberry with white chocolate chips - and a cup of water. 

When they’ve retreated back to the same table they’d sat at a week earlier, seats open although the shop is much livelier this time, Renjun expresses his confusion. “Cranberry and white chocolate?”

Donghyuck shrugs. “What can I say? I’m a weak man. I’m hoping the water convinces my stomach to forgive me for this.”

“I don’t think two cookies will kill you,” Renjun says, a bit more seriousness in his voice than he means to let through.

Donghyuck must hear it, because he smiles, genuine and reassuring. “I know,” he says, and then his smile turns sheepish. “I just might not have, uh, eaten a full meal before this.”

“ _Donghyuck_ ,” Renjun chides, worry turning to exasperation. “You’re a smart guy, how did your big brain rationalize that arguably- ah, what’s a nice word for stupid? That _interesting_ decision?” 

Donghyuck makes a face across the table at Renjun. “In my defense, it wasn’t exactly a decision. My hand was forced.”

“Oh really?”

“Really,” Donghyuck nods. “I tried to have cereal, but when I got out the box there was like _this_ much-” he holds up two fingers, almost touching “-left inside. Freaking Jisung must have eaten it all like the little monster he is.”

Renjun narrows his eyes, only slightly swayed. “And there was _no_ other food in your whole apartment?”

Donghyuck looks caught. “Uh… well the thing is that by the time I realized I was out of cereal, I was also out of time to actually _make_ anything.”

Renjun sighs, shakes his head. “Did you sleep through your alarm or something?”

Donghyuck… goes pink? “Or something,” he mutters, eyes skipping away from Renjun’s face. 

A hot streak of curiosity courses through Renjun. What does _or something_ mean when it’s paired with that look on Donghyuck’s face? For a moment, Renjun finds himself entertaining the absurd idea that Donghyuck might have spent too much time getting ready, combing through his hair, picking out his clothes, dabbing tinted balm on his lips (not that Renjun has been looking at them, of course). 

But those are dangerous thoughts, and Renjun forces himself to dismiss them. 

“Anyway,” Donghyuck says before the silence drags out too long, “I’ll just eat slowly. It’ll be fine.”

“Sure,” Renjun agrees, “I’d say maybe save your double chocolate half for later, though. That seems like a lot.”

Donghyuck looks forlornly at the white bag his cookies are sitting in. “Yeah, that’d probably be a good idea.”

“God, you look like those cookies just kicked your dog,” Renjun says with half a laugh.

Donghyuck looks up and rolls his eyes. “You don’t understand the pain of having to wait to eat that double chocolate masterpiece. I’ve been thinking about it all week.”

Renjun resists the urge to roll his eyes right back. “Then another few hours won’t kill you.”

“Easy for you to say.”

“Fine. I won’t eat my half until you eat yours. _Just_ to prove how much of a non-issue it is.”

Donghyuck makes another face at him, but this time there’s a smile tugging at his lips. “Deal. I’m holding you to that.”

“Go ahead.” Renjun lifts a hand to shake in the air like he’s dismissing the subject. “It’s not a big deal at all.”

“Mhm,” Donghyuck hums, noncommittal. The smile tugs harder at his lips. 

They split all three cookies, even though Renjun insists Donghyuck doesn’t need to share the cranberry and white chocolate one. “I think we’ve already been over the stomach thing, right?” Donghyuck says to get Renjun to drop his argument. The two halves of double chocolate cookies are tucked into each of their paper baggies for later.

“Which one do you want to try first?” Renjun asks, looking at the two cookie halves in front of him. 

“Let’s go with yours,” Donghyuck decides, reaching for his oatmeal raisin and lifting it up to the center of the table.

Renjun lifts his half and mirrors Donghyuck, tapping the cookies together in cheers. They take their first bites at the same time, and Renjun gets to watch Donghyuck’s face light up in reaction to the taste.

“Holy shit, you were really onto something with these,” Donghyuck says when he’s (mostly) swallowed the bite. 

“Right?” Renjun smiles, pleased. “I can’t be associated with people who don’t like a good oatmeal raisin.”

“Good thing I like them then, huh?” Donghyuck says, eyes crinkling.

“Yeah,” Renjun nods. “Really good.” 

_(He’d make an exception for Donghyuck. He’d make a thousand exceptions for Donghyuck. He just smiles wider, though, because he doesn’t_ have _to, and that’s the best part.)_

✨

Renjun has only been home for ten minutes when his phone starts buzzing on the kitchen table. He hops up from the couch and speed-walks to his chair, falling into it and accepting the video call before the last ring. 

“Can you believe Jisung came home like two minutes after I finished cooking?” Donghyuck says as soon as the call connects. “I swear he can smell food and teleport to it.”

Renjun snorts at the indignant shout that echoes in the background. Donghyuck’s grin is unabashed as he ignores Jisung’s protest.

“Did you end up sharing?” Renjun asks, although he thinks he already knows.

Donghyuck rolls his eyes, but the smile on his face softens. “Yeah,” he says, trying and failing to sound annoyed. “He’s lucky he’s so cute and helpless, like a baby chick.”

“I’m not a baby! I’m twenty-one!” A voice calls out from somewhere behind Donghyuck. 

Donghyuck pretends not to have heard. “Just a little duckling. He would die without me.”

“Shut up or I’m changing my Netflix password, you ass!” Jisung’s distant, garbled voice comes through the phone.

The grin on Donghyuck’s face drops so quickly Renjun can’t help laughing. “Jisung Park don’t you fucking _dare_ !” Donghyuck shouts over his shoulder. “I haven't finished rewatching _Crash Landing On You_ yet!”

Renjun doubles over, stuffing his face in his hands to try and hide his laughter from the video camera. 

“Stop calling me a baby! You’re not even two years older than me!”

“Technically I am!” Donghyuck calls back, “I feed you and let you back into the apartment when you lock yourself out, and I’m _not_ supposed to think of you as my child?”

“I locked myself out _one_ time! One! Can’t you just have your weird phone da-” There’s a crashing sound and Renjun lifts his face from his hands to see what’s happening on the call. Donghyuck has left the frame, and all Renjun can see is a white wall with a blurry poster hanging on it. 

For a moment, it’s silent, and then Renjun can hear Donghyuck’s voice, low enough that he can’t make out the words. A moment later, Donghyuck returns, sitting heavily with a too-bright smile on his face. “Sorry about that,” he says. “Where were we?”

“Honestly we weren’t anywhere,” Renjun says. “The whole call has been you ragging on Jisung.”

The forced look melts right off Donghyuck’s face, replaced by a lopsided, sheepish grin. Donghyuck rubs the back of his neck. “Oh, yeah. Sorry about that.”

“Are you kidding?” Renjun shakes his head. “It’s hilarious. Don’t worry about it.”

Donghyuck brightens and reaches past the camera, pulling something into frame. He holds up the double chocolate cookie from the coffee shop. “You ready?”

“Yeah,” Renjun nods, tugs his own half of the cookie out of the bag and waves it in front of the camera. 

Donghyuck mimes tapping his cookie to the screen like they’d done when they were together. “Cheers.”

“Cheers,” Renjun echoes.

There’s a moment of silence while they both chew and then Donghyuck curses so loudly, Renjun startles in his seat. 

“ _Fuck_ ,” he says again, “I’m mad. This is so good.”

“Why are you mad?” Renjun asks, taking another bite.

“Because now I'm gonna have to _make_ cookies, and I just cleaned the kitchen,” Donghyuck explains. “And Jisung is going to eat them all in a day so then I’m gonna have to do it all over again.” 

“Just keep a secret stash of them somewhere he can’t find them.”

“Hm,” Donghyuck narrows his eyes like he’s thinking hard about this, “I like where your head’s at. I’ll just make a big batch and pretend it was a normal one.”

“That’s the spirit!” Renjun takes another bite and is disappointed to find there’s only a small chunk of cookie left.

“You’re such a good influence, Renjun.”

“I’ve been told,” Renjun says, his grin sharp. “We’re very similar like that.”

Donghyuck’s face is like a mirror of Renjun’s. “So true.”

In the beat of silence that follows, Renjun wonders if Donghyuck is remembering the moment he’d introduced Renjun to his family and Johnny had taken one look at Renjun and said, “ _good god, there’s two of them now_.” He thinks that might explain the way the smile on Donghyuck’s face falters, grows cautious when he meets Renjun’s eyes again through the camera. 

“If you ever feel bad for hiding the goods from Jisung, just remember you get points for sharing so much with him in the first place,” Renjun says to chase the uncertainty from Donghyuck’s eyes.

Donghyuck shrugs, “I think it’s just my job to share with him, but thanks.”

“I don’t know, I think you deserve credit for it. Jisung’s lucky to get free access to your food. I’m already jealous of him getting those cookies and you haven’t even made them yet.”

Donghyuck ducks his head, shoulders shaking with light laughter. “I’ll make sure he knows just how in-demand my cooking and baked goods are next time he complains.”

“You should,” Renjun says, serious even though Donghyuck had been joking. “Complaining about free food is just madness.”

Donghyuck shrugs. “It’s more about the quantity not the quality. Bottomless pit and everything, y’know.”

Renjun opens his mouth to respond, but before he can get a word out, a high-pitched shriek cuts through the air of his apartment, and he freezes. Renjun twists to face the closed door to his shared room with Jaemin and shouts his name. “You good?”

“Fucking _spider_!” Jaemin shouts back. 

Renjun curses under his breath. 

“Where’s Jeno?” Jaemin hollars. “It’s his turn to kill it!”

“He’s out! Fuck.” Renjun turns back to his phone and gives Donghyuck an apologetic look. “Sorry, I have to go. I need to burn this building to the ground.”

“Have fun!” Donghyuck cheers.

Renjun grimaces and ends the call. 

He and Jaemin do _not_ have fun.

✨

The next week comes and goes in a blur. One video chat with Donghyuck turns into two, into three, to four and more. They text the same as before, but Renjun starts calling Donghyuck in the car in the early evening when he finally tears himself away from the work at his desk after school every day to catch up about the little things neither of them think to text, to recount stories from the day that are too long to type out, to simply hear Donghyuck’s warm voice and revel in the fact that he’s still there. 

It becomes routine. March gloom still clings to the air, casting everything in a shade of gray, but when Donghyuck speaks and when he _laughs_ , Renjun is bathed in sunlight. 

✨

Saturday afternoon, Renjun is in sweats and a flannel that might very well be Jaemin’s, front half draped over the table as Jeno and Jaemin bicker in the kitchen. He watches them banter back and forth with mild interest, like viewing a game of tennis, or ping pong. 

Jaemin is prodding at the ramen boiling in his pot of water, vehemently shaking his head. “It is _not_ my turn to buy groceries,” he insists, “I went two weeks ago.”

“But you’re supposed to go after Renjun,” Jeno says, “that’s the order we set.”

“Well then why did I do your grocery run two weeks ago? Why can’t you do mine today? Wouldn’t that be fair?”

“I swear _I_ got groceries two weeks ago though.” Jeno frowns down at the greens he’s steaming, and Renjun huffs out a laugh at the way Jaemin turns his head to the side so he doesn’t have to see the almost-pout on Jeno’s lips.

“I don’t know what to tell you, man,” Jaemin shakes his head, “I have receipts. Literal receipts from the store.”

“I already made plans though,” Jeno sighs. “I don’t want to drive out to Walmart for your frozen fruit packs and soy milk.”

“Woah, when have I ever complained about having to buy your ice cream even though I can’t eat it?”

“Literally all the time, dude. You’re a professional complainer.”

Jaemin makes a face and opens his mouth to retort, only to be cut off by the loud _ding_ of the toaster oven. “Your chicken’s done,” he says to Renjun instead of biting back at Jeno.

“Yeah, I heard.” Renjun jumps up from his seat and makes his way into the kitchen, squeezing past Jeno and Jaemin at the stove so he can reach the back counter. “Thanks.” He grabs a plate and fork and slides his chicken tenders out of the oven, then beats a hasty retreat back to his spot at the table.

“I’m still not going,” Jaemin says to Jeno, resuming the debate once Renjun has left the kitchen. I’ve had enough social interaction for the week. I can’t even _look_ at another person that’s not you or Renjun until Monday.”

“ _Dude_ ,” Jeno sighs.

“What? I literally just went. I _cannot_ set foot in Trader Joe’s again for at _least_ another week.”

“Can’t you guys just split the list and both do half?” Renjun suggests through a mouthful of chicken.

“No way,” Jaemin says, at the same time Jeno says-

“-That’s not a bad idea.”

“No,” Jaemin says again.

“Why not?” Jeno needles. “Renjun’s idea seems fair.”

Jaemin scoffs and Renjun starts tuning them out, focused on his food. He’s halfway through the plate, vaguely aware of Jeno and Jaemin both finishing up their cooking, when his phone screen goes black over the instagram video of a dog chewing ice that he’d been watching. In place of the video, is an incoming call notification.

“What’s up, Hyuck?” Renjun asks after swallowing down his chicken.

“Do you know what the best asian grocery around here is? I asked Jisung and he told me to _just google it_ but I don’t trust Google. I figured you’ve been here long enough to know the lay of the land pretty well.”

“Yeah, that’s easy,” Renjun says, “I can text you a list.” He glances up, looking at Jeno and Jaemin through the open window into the kitchen. “Are you going today?”

“Yeah,” Donghyuck says, voice less than thrilled, “I used up the last of a bunch of our stuff last night and Jisung is, well, himself. Then I figured it’d be good to stock up on more than just shitty college foods too.”

“How would you feel about company?” Renjun says, eyes still on the bickering duo in the kitchen. “We’re due for a grocery run here too, so I could just take you to the markets myself. If you want?”

“That would be great!” Donghyuck’s voice brightens considerably. “It wouldn’t be too much trouble for you?”

“Oh no,” Renjun shakes his head although Donghyuck can’t see, “shopping’s more fun when you go with someone else anyway, right?”

“True,” Donghyuck agrees. “So do you want to just shoot me a text before you head over?”

“Yeah. I’m eating right now, but I’ll leave right after,” Renjun says.

“Sounds good. I’ll see you soon then?” Donghyuck is smiling as he asks, Renjun can tell from his voice.

“Yeah.” Renjun is smiling too. “I’ll see you soon.”

“Okay. Great. See you.” There’s a moment of silence and then Donghyuck ends the call just as Jeno and Jaemin emerge from the kitchen with their lunches in hand. They both have some of Jaemin’s ramen and some of Jeno’s greens, despite their disagreement.

Renjun sets his phone down and moves for his chicken again. “You guys can stop fighting over the grocery run,” he says as his friends join him at the table.

“Oh?” Jeno looks excited by this notion.

“I’ll go again,” Renjun volunteers. “I’ll do this week too.”

Jaemin looks at him like he’s grown a second head. “You will?”

“Yeah,” Renjun nods.

“This feels like a trap,” Jaemin mutters, leaning towards Jeno as if divulging a secret.

“I can hear you, you know,” Renjun says, unimpressed. 

“I wasn’t whispering.”

“As long as you’re aware.” Renjun takes another bite of chicken, watches Jaemin narrow suspicious eyes at him.

“Do you think he’s been replaced by a clone? Or an alien?” Jaemin says to Jeno, all without taking his eyes off of Renjun.

“If he got replaced they’d try _not_ to blow their cover, right?” Jeno asks, stuffing his mouth with greens.

Jaemin seems perturbed by Jeno’s non-reaction, and by the fact that he’s made a good point. He takes a tentative bite of ramen and continues to level Renjun with one of his _looks_. Renjun sends him a sweet smile back and continues to eat his chicken, entirely unbothered. After all these years, he’s too used to Jaemin’s behavior to be thrown off.

Jeno, to his credit, has also grown accustomed to it with impressive speed. He knocks an elbow into Jaemin’s side. “Dude, do you really wanna question it? You just don’t get opportunities like this every day.”

“Yeah…” Jaemin’s gaze falters, losing its intensity.

“If you pass this up then one of _us_ is gonna have to go. Is that really what you want?”

Jaemin heaves out a sigh. “Fine. You win. Renjun gets the grocery run.” He punctuates the statement with another bite. “But,” he says when he’s swallowed, “I take none of the blame if this does turn out to be a trick.”

Jeno spares a glance at Renjun, at the small smile tugging at his lips as he gets to his last nugget. “Sure, man. I don’t think it’s gonna be a problem.”

“Famous last words,” Jaemin says, but he drops the subject.

Fifteen minutes later, when Renjun - full from lunch and now properly dressed - tugs on his shoes at the door, Jaemin sends him a warm grin, suspicions completely gone. “Thanks, Junnie. You’re the best.”

Renjun sends him a two-fingered salute and grabs his keys from the hook on the wall. He thinks - privately, of course - that he’s the one who got the best end of this deal. But if getting to spend an afternoon with Donghyuck benefits his friends too, then he’ll take the added bonus.

The first thing Renjun notices about Donghyuck when he walks out of his building is the impressive spread of reusable bags hanging on his arm. Renjun reaches automatically to his door to hit the button that unlocks the car before pointing Donghyuck to the backseat. Donghyuck opens the door and tosses all his bags in, or at least Renjun assumes. 

When Donghyuck closes the door to the backseat and opens the passenger side, sliding in and tugging it shut again behind himself, there’s still one bag clutched in his hand. 

“What’s that?” Renjun asks, relocking the car. 

Donghyuck makes a face, caught between sheepish and proud, and his hand disappears into the green cloth. It emerges a moment later, along with a medium sized tupperware. Donghyuck sets it in his lap and stuffs the bag through the space between the seats, leaving it with the others in the back. 

Renjun looks at the tupperware, then at Donghyuck’s face, colored a pretty shade of pink, light enough that he could write it off if he wanted to. He’s not sure he does. “What’s that?” Renjun asks again.

“Uh,” Donghyuck starts, ever eloquent, fumbling to buckle himself in and dodge the question at the same time. “Cookies. For you?” He shoots Renjun an almost embarrassed look. “If you want them.”

Renjun looks from Donghyuck’s face to the tupperware and back. “Why wouldn’t I want them?” It’s a genuine question, falling from his lips without thought. “Unless this is a batch you dropped on the ground? Or burned?”

Donghyuck huffs, embarrassment falling from his face in an instant. “Of course not. Those are the ones I give to Jisung and his not-boyfriend when he comes over. They either can’t tell the difference or don’t care. I would never try to poison _you_ like that.”

“You’re too flashy for poison, I agree,” Renjun says, mouth once again running away from him in the face of Donghyuck’s sincerity.

Donghyuck rolls with it though, just like old times. “Of course. It’s a duel to the death with swords or agni kai. Nothing less.”

Renjun barks out a laugh. “You wouldn’t even be a firebender, Hyuck, you’re an air sign.”

“Well there _aren’t_ any airbenders,” Donghyuck huffs, “so I get to pick which of the other three I want. And I think firebending is sexy.”

“I don’t think that’s how it works,” Renjun says, but he’s smiling.

“I stand by it,” Donghyuck says, before falling silent again. He seems to remember how the conversation started and clears his throat, glancing at Renjun. “So, yeah. The cookies are for you. And Jaemin and Jeno if you want to share. I made a lot and figured you should have some since you’re the reason I started a cookie baking binge in the first place.”

“Damn, maybe I really _am_ a good influence,” Renjun says, pretending heat isn’t creeping into his cheeks at Donghyuck’s gesture. 

“Of course!” Donghyuck’s voice is just over-exaggerated enough that Renjun knows his fake sincerity is based in truth. “And now you don’t have to be jealous of Jisung getting all the cookies since you get these, and they’re better than the ones he steals from me.”

“Perfect,” Renjun grins, “I didn’t feel great about envying a twenty-one year old.”

“Yeah that makes sense,” Donghyuck snorts. “Although I guess Jisung’s not the worst of them. He is stupid cute.”

“Like a little chick,” Renjun says, finally turning his eyes to the road and getting to what he’d technically come to get Donghyuck to do. 

Donghyuck laughs as they roll down the road. “Exactly.”

It’s easy conversation from there, and Donghyuck doesn’t even remember to ask for the aux until they’re five minutes away from their first stop. It’s the asian grocery store Donghyuck had called Renjun for in the first place, and Renjun makes sure Donghyuck has the name and address saved in his phone, along with the name of the next closest one just in case. They’re in and out in under thirty minutes, a few of each of their bags full (Renjun had impressed Donghyuck by opening the trunk of his car to reveal a whole stash of grocery bags stored there) and are off to the next stop. 

Trader Joe’s takes longer than necessary solely because Donghyuck gets caught up at the free samples stand, debating whether to buy the mini quiches they’re offering. Renjun doesn’t complain, content to find everything on his list and then return to the stand to watch Donghyuck charm himself into his third (or fourth) free sample before finally caving and taking a box from the poor highschool age girl standing at the mini-booth. 

At their third stop, things get interesting. 

Renjun is pushing a cart along for the two of them, slowing to look at the sale sign in front to him to see if it’s an actual deal or just another capitalist trick, while Donghyuck walks beside him, scrutinizing the shopping list on his phone. Renjun has just come to a stop, screwing his face up as he tries to work out the mental math in his head when-

“Holy shit!” Donghyuck exclaims right there in the middle of the bread aisle, loud enough that a middle aged woman with a sharp brown bob levels him with a glare. Donghyuck doesn’t even notice her looking his way, eyes jumping straight from his phone to Renjun. “Johnny finally proposed! Oh my god!”

Renjun’s eyes go wide and he forgets all about his calculations. “Really?”

“Yeah!” Donghyuck’s head snaps back down to his phone and his fingers fly against the screen, tapping out a response to whatever message had delivered this news to him. When he looks back up, he’s beaming. “Oh my god,” he repeats, eyes sparkling under the fluorescent lights. “He’s getting married! Doyoung’s gonna be my brother! For real!” 

“That’s so great!” Renjun says earnestly, taking a step closer to Donghyuck and touching his arm, just a light squeeze before he drops the hand back to his side, but he hopes it’s enough. “I never did hear what happened between them after you guys went on your trip, I’m glad they’re still going strong.”

Something flickers across Donghyuck’s face, too fast for Renjun to figure out what. It’s gone as soon as it appears, and he’s still grinning so wide his whole face is crinkled with joy. “Yeah, they’re great.” He shakes his head like he still can’t quite believe it. “Oh my _god_ , I’m so excited!” 

And then Donghyuck is moving, bubbling like there’s too much happiness in his body to hold inside. He takes a step forward and throws his arms around Renjun, holding him tight as if the closeness of contact will let some of his joy seep through Renjun’s skin and reach his heart. 

Renjun takes a half step back, startled by the suddenness of it all, but as soon as he feels Donghyuck’s head tuck against his neck like it has so many times before, feels the warmth of Donghyuck’s body pressed against his, he reacts instinctively, without overthinking. His arms come up to circle Donghyuck’s middle, hands pressing flat against Donghyuck’s back, and he leans his head into Donghyuck’s. 

Two years and they still fit together like puzzle pieces. 

For a long moment it feels like everything stops, like they’re suspended in time, just holding each other against the backdrop of discounted bread. Then someone clears their throat nearby and reality sets in again. 

Donghyuck loosens his hold and shifts away and Renjun lets his arms fall, drop back to his sides. When he and Donghyuck face each other again, he sees that the smile on Donghyuck’s lips has gone soft, all smooth, sweet edges like melted ice cream. His eyes are bright, and Renjun thinks he’s practically glowing. He’s gorgeous, always, but especially right then and there, overflowing with joy. Something in Renjun’s chest bursts to life. 

A realization hits him, and it doesn’t quite feel like the floor is dropping out from under him, but like fireflies have startled him with their brightness in the darkness of night.

He’s in love with Donghyuck. Still. _Again_. 

Renjun’s mouth goes dry and his brain stalls, but it doesn’t matter, because Donghyuck is speaking again and so Renjun doesn’t need to do anything but watch the way he moves as he recounts the story of Johnny and Doyoung to him. 

Donghyuck tells him that Johnny’s trip overseas had put a hold on the then newly-forming thought of proposing, but that time away from Doyoung had made him more sure than ever that where he really wanted to be was simply wherever Doyoung was. There’s something on Donghyuck’s face when he says this, something at once melancholic and content, at peace. 

Renjun wants to take his hand and squeeze, thread their fingers together and hold him close again, but it’s not his place. If he shifts closer while they walk side by side down the aisle so that their shoulders brush though, well that, at least, is within his rights. 

As they carry on filling the shopping cart, Donghyuck tells Renjun how Doyoung had actually flown out to meet them when they’d stopped in Seoul. Donghyuck laments that they’d spent the whole time there pestering (read: doting on) him and being disgustingly in love even though they were trying to hide it, but Renjun can hear the fondness in his voice clear as day. He knows Donghyuck thinks Johnny is the greatest person in the world, and it’s written all across his face when he talks about him. 

Renjun wonders, sometimes, what it would be like to have siblings of his own. He thinks that after five years of living with Jaemin, maybe he knows. But still… the way Donghyuck adores his older brother (the way Johnny adores him just as much, if not more) is something special. Renjun feels warm inside just listening to how Donghyuck talks about his brother.

“It’s been like a year now since the end of your trip, right? Did Johnny still need that long to decide to propose?” Renjun asks when Donghyuck’s story hits a lull.

“Oh no,” Donghyuck shakes his head, “he knew ages ago. I think he spent this whole time just looking for _the perfect rings_ and figuring out _whether there’s a way to do it that’ll make Doyoung cry_.” Donghyuck makes air quotes and pitches his voice in a poor imitation of Johnny as he quotes him. 

Renjun snorts. “Did he find one?” When Donghyuck raises a brow, he elaborates, “A way to make Doyoung cry.”

“Oh, yeah.” Donghyuck grins and his teeth flash in the bright freezer lights. “From the picture I got, he ended up playing himself. They were definitely _both_ crying.”

“That’s sweet,” Renjun says, the thought slipping out before he can think to stop it. He expects an incredulous look from Donghyuck in response, a comment ragging fondly on his brother, but Donghyuck’s face just softens and he smiles gently at Renjun.

“Yeah,” he agrees. Their eyes meet and there’s a beat of silence between them. It feels weighted, important. Renjun imagines that they’re cradling a winged creature in their palms, waiting to see if it can take flight. The moment stretches on until another shopper comes down the aisle right beside them and Donghyuck has to take a swift step to the left to avoid getting run down by their cart, and his eyes slip past Renjun’s face to the wall of ice cream behind him. 

“Oh thank god I brought an insulated bag,” he says, tugging the freezer door open and reaching for a carton of mango ice cream. The moment passes just like that, something unspoken and not addressed, but Renjun doesn’t think he’s imagining how Donghyuck stands closer to him all the rest of their shopping. 

Later, Renjun returns home to his apartment with three things: his groceries, the tupperware of cookies from Donghyuck, and a smile he can’t seem to shake. He’s happy.

✨

Renjun’s birthday draws closer. This year he’s lucky, and it’s on a Sunday, so he doesn’t have to work and can do what he wants. Twenty-three isn’t a landmark age, so he’s not planning anything more than a day at home with Jaemin and Jeno, and a skype call with his parents. When he says as much to his coworker, Kun, the look he gets in return says _wow, that sounds boring even to me_ , but Renjun doesn’t mind. At twenty-two, Jaemin had dragged him out for a long night of activities and too much Taylor Swift, and Renjun likes to pretend his twenty-first birthday simply never happened, so all in all, he thinks he’s well due for a quieter event.

On the Wednesday before his birthday, Renjun leaves school and drives not back to his apartment, but to the nearest Sally Beauty. He’s in and out in under ten minutes, just stopping to get a box of hair dye before heading on his way again. He considers mentioning it when Donghyuck asks what’s added an extra half hour to his commute, and - by association - one of their now-routine late afternoon phone calls after work, but decides against it. There’s a part of him that wants to see Donghyuck’s reaction to his hair being dyed back to black without warning, so he simply says he needs to make a stop on the way home and lets the conversation move along.

On Friday, he stays late at the school to get all his work done before heading home for the weekend, all responsibilities entirely off his mind. He’s planning to crash on the couch for a half hour to recharge before needling Jaemin into helping him dye his hair like he’s been putting off the last two days. Halfway through the drive, his music cuts off abruptly, replaced by the sound of an incoming call. 

Renjun hits the button to accept it, surprised that Donghyuck is on the other end of the line; it’s well past the time they usually call, and Renjun had assumed they’d just have an off day. 

“Hey, Hyuck,” he says, projecting his voice so the phone picks it up from where it’s laying on the center console.

“Hey, I’m glad I caught you,” Donghyuck’s voice crackles through the speaker. “I was gonna just text, but then I figured if you were busy your phone would be on silent so calling wouldn’t bother you, and if you were in the car, you could answer a call better than a text, so…” he trails off for a beat like his train of thought has been derailed.

“Yeah, solid logic,” Renjun offers to fill the silence. When it stretches on again, he prompts Donghyuck, “So what’s up?”

“Right! I just wanted to ask if you wanted to see a movie tomorrow? If you don’t already have plans? Apparently Jisung can get his friends in for free when he’s on shift at the theater and he’s working all weekend since his spring break is next week.”

“Sure,” Renjun agrees, maybe too easily for someone who’d been planning a relaxing weekend in the solitude of his apartment. But while other people can be draining to be around for too long, Donghyuck is different. Being with Donghyuck is like coming home, and Renjun jumps at the chance to spend time with him. “What movie?” 

Donghyuck lets out a nervous cough. “Uh, we can see whatever you want.”

“I have literally no idea what movies are out right now,” Renjun says.

The sound of movement comes through the line and Donghyuck admits that honestly, he doesn’t either. “I’m pulling up the website right now,” he tells Renjun sheepishly.

Renjun just laughs, teases Donghyuck for not being more prepared to follow through on his own suggestion. After a minute, Donghyuck makes an excited sound and says that the theater is halfway through a Studio Ghibli special event, and there’s a six o’clock showing of _My Neighbor Totoro_ the next day.

“Maybe there _is_ a god in the universe, damn,” Renjun says, because he’d have gone to see any movie with Donghyuck, even the kind of bad romance ones he loves, but this is perfect. 

“So that’s a yes on _Totoro_?” Donghyuck laughs.

“Absolutely,” Renjun nods even though he’s alone in his car, “I’ll pick you up at five-something, then? Does Jisung work at the Cinemark on Pine Street?”

“Yeah, that’s the one,” Donghyuck says, “and five-something sounds great.” 

Donghyuck has to end the call after another few minutes, and Renjun spends the rest of the ride with nothing but his music once more, but it’s the strangest thing- when he gets home, he doesn’t need to crash on the couch to recharge from the draining day like he’d expected. 

When Renjun pokes his head into the room he shares with Jaemin to ask him if he’ll help save the mess that is Renjun’s hair, he’s buzzing with enough energy that Jaemin gives him a weird look before agreeing with an undeserved amount of trepidation. 

“What’s gotten into you?” Jaemin asks as they set up all the hair dyeing supplies they’ve amassed over the years on the bathroom counter. “You’re usually dead when you come home. Are you hopped up on sugar or something? Because if you crash while we’re doing this I’m gonna be tight.”

“I’m good,” Renjun says, stuffing his hands into disposable gloves. “Can’t a guy just be excited about his birthday weekend?”

“You haven’t been excited about anything other than lounging around all week.” Jaemin squints at him through the mirror. “And you didn’t even take your power nap when you got home today.”

Renjun shrugs, turning his attention to the instructions on the back of the box.

“Okay then,” Jaemin says, “keep your secrets.”

Renjun huffs out a laugh and shakes his head. If Jaemin really pressed him, maybe he’d admit what’s gotten him in higher spirits than usual, but Jaemin is deceptively good at reading and respecting boundaries, and he lets Renjun be. (He’ll find out sooner or later, anyway, and they both know it.)

“Are you ready to look sexy as fuck?” Jaemin asks once they’ve gotten through the directions for the hair dye and both their gloved hands look like they came straight out of a horror movie.

Renjun nods. He doesn’t need his personal crisis hair anymore. He’s ready to just be himself again. “Let’s do this shit.”

✨

Saturday afternoon finds Renjun running a nervous hand through his hair as he sits in his car, waiting for Donghyuck to step out of his apartment complex. He gives himself a once-over in the black screen of his phone, but he knows his nerves aren’t about the way he looks (he and Jaemin did a good, maybe even _great_ job with the dye). What Renjun’s jitters are really about is the fact that when he was getting changed just before leaving his apartment, Jaemin had walked into their room, taken one look at him, and asked him if he was going on a date. 

And the problem isn’t that Renjun’s overdressed - he’s going to be sitting in the dark for an hour or two, after all - _or_ that Jaemin had made the guess in the first place, but that Renjun himself doesn’t know the answer. When Jaemin had asked the question, all Renjun could do was shrug, _I’m just going to the movies_. 

Jaemin had given him one of those _looks_ , and said, “With Donghyuck?”

When Renjun grudgingly confirmed, Jaemin had just nodded, like _yeah, that’s what I thought._ “Have a good time,” he’d said. And that was that.

Except Renjun keeps thinking about it. It’s not a date, technically he knows this. But he also knows it _could_ be. He remembers sneaking off to midnight movies with Donghyuck when they’d been in college, trying to talk about them in his car afterwards but getting distracted by the glow of the parking lot lights on Donghyuck’s face and ending up kissing him breathless instead. 

Renjun keeps getting flashes of the past even as he and Donghyuck make new memories together, and it’s eating away at him just a little bit because as grateful as he is to have a second chance of any kind with Donghyuck, as much as he thinks he understands what’s going on between them, he doesn’t _know_. Two years apart from Donghyuck have torn away the certainty he’d once had that he knew what was going on inside Donghyuck’s head, that he could see and understand the world from his point of view, that he understood Donghyuck even without words.

He sighs, setting his phone back down on the console. Overthinking it now won’t do him any good. There’s nothing he can do now but relearn Donghyuck in all the ways he can, enjoy his company more than ever now that he knows how it feels to be without him, love him in any way he’s allowed.

This train of thought, of course, all comes to a screeching halt when Renjun catches a glimpse of Donghyuck stepping out onto the sidewalk and every thought leaves his mind but, _wow, he looks nice_. Donghyuck isn’t even wearing anything special - just a black cardigan layered over a turtleneck half a shade lighter and blue jeans - but Donghyuck makes it look incredible. 

Renjun forgets all about being self-reflective and lets himself just wave easily at Donghyuck as he approaches the car, watching the way he moves like he’s made of water. Times like these it’s impossible to forget that Donghyuck’s a dancer. 

In the blink of an eye, Donghyuck is tugging open the door to Renjun’s car and sliding into the passenger seat in a scene so familiar to Renjun he thinks he could still see it all with his eyes closed. The look on Donghyuck’s face as he turns to face Renjun in greeting is different, though; his eyes go wide and a smile tugs at his lips even as they part in surprise. 

“You dyed your hair,” Donghyuck says, eyes sweeping across Renjun’s face, taking in the sight of him like it’s something captivating, mesmerizing. 

“Yeah.” Renjun’s voice comes out weaker than he’d expected, but he feels a bit breathless under the intensity of Donghyuck’s gaze. 

“It looks good,” Donghyuck says, tone dropping just slightly to match Renjun’s. Then, almost like it’s done without thinking, he reaches a hand out to brush careful fingers through the dark strands framing Renjun’s face. “It looks really good.” 

Renjun swallows, and it feels like his heart is crawling up his throat. “Thanks,” he says on an exhale, unable to look away from Donghyuck, still leaned half out of his seat to reach Renjun.

Donghyuck nods, lips pressing together as his smile fades into something smaller, more delicate than before. He stays there, in Renjun’s space, a hand ghosting through his hair, a moment longer than maybe he should, before drawing himself back into his seat, letting both his hands settle in his lap. 

Neither of them comment on it, just sit there in silence for a beat, letting it hang in the air between them. When the air grows too thick with unspoken words, Renjun passes Donghyuck the aux cord and puts the car in drive. He makes a u-turn in the empty street and soft pop music crackles to life through the speakers. The tension dissipates, and they’re on their way.

✨

Five minutes out from Donghyuck’s apartment building, as Renjun is easing the car to a standstill at a stop sign, he glances out the window and - maybe because he was just thinking about Donghyuck’s dancing minutes earlier - has a minor epiphany. “Oh, shit! I know why I recognized this road the first time I drove you home. God, that’s been bothering me so much.”

Donghyuck makes a sound of surprise and asks, curious, “What is it?”

“I’ve driven Jaemin here before. There’s a dance studio nearby, right?”

Renjun can see Donghyuck perk up out of the corner of his eye as they continue down the road. “Yeah! That’s the one Jisung and I go to. Does Jaemin dance there too?”

“Yeah,” Renjun nods, “not all that much, since he doesn’t dance like he used to, but when he does, it’s there.”

“Dude, that’s so cool. What are the odds?” Donghyuck lets out an incredulous laugh that seems to die on his lips as quickly as it bursts to life. “That’s actually crazy, though. If I hadn’t run into you at the beach, maybe I still would’ve run into Jaemin at the studio. Maybe we still would’ve ended up here.”

“What, like the universe wanted us to meet again?” Where Renjun’s words try to make him seem unaffected by Donghyuck’s sudden pensiveness, his voice betrays him with notes of hope, cracking at the edges. It’s one thing to wonder about higher powers and the threads tying all of existence together, it’s another thing entirely to believe in them. 

Renjun believes in a lot of things, but with Donghyuck, he wants to believe in even more.

“It’s not impossible,” Donghyuck says with a certainty that makes Renjun ache just a little bit. “Who says there can’t be special people in the world?”

Renjun wants to say something about the odds of _them_ , of all people, being special in a world filled to the brim with life, but then he thinks of the odds of them meeting again, of being on the same beach at the same time, of turning at just the right moment to catch a glimpse of each other, and can’t seem to find the words he’d been reaching for. 

“Come on,” Donghyuck nudges, “you believe in aliens, right? Can’t you believe in miracles?”

 _Miracles._ The ache in Renjun’s chest spreads, unfurling like a spring blossom. Meeting Donghyuck again, Donghyuck sitting in the passenger seat of his car like he’s done a thousand times before, a new constant in Renjun’s life as if he’s come back from the dead… maybe Renjun can believe after all. 

“If I say yes, you’re never going to let me live it down.” _Never_ , he realizes, implies that Donghyuck will be around forever.

Donghyuck just grins, Renjun can tell even without taking his eyes off the road. There’s no hesitation in his voice when he says, “Of course.”

Renjun smiles. He finds he quite likes the notion.

Conversation peters in and out, silent stretches strung together by Donghyuck’s soft music playing through the car speakers. A few minutes out from the theater, Renjun asks Donghyuck how many movies he’s seen so far with the help of Jisung’s free entry passes, and Donghyuck scoffs. 

“I haven’t seen _any_ ,” he says petulantly, “Jisung literally never mentioned it to me until the other day he said something about getting his friend in with him and I was like _what do you mean by ‘getting him in’_ and he went all panicked and quiet until I made him fess up. I don’t think he was ever gonna tell me; said I’d make him _abuse his power too much_. We literally went to the movies together the other week and he made me buy my ticket when I didn’t even have to.” 

“Didn’t you just say he was getting his friend into a movie and that’s how the whole thing started, though?”

“Right!” Donghyuck lets out an incredulous laugh. “I literally said that to him and he was like _that’s different,_ and I was like _uh-huh, how?_ ” Donghyuck laughs again, recalling the memory. “You know what he said to me?”

“What?”

Donghyuck pitches his voice, “ _You’re not Chenle_.” Out of the corner of his eye, Renjun can see Donghyuck shaking his head. “He made this stupid cute face when he said it too, it was gross. They’re not even dating yet but those two make me feel like the most single person in this town.”

 _Single_. Renjun’s brain goes fuzzy and it’s a good thing he’s pulling into the half-empty theater parking lot, because if he was on a main road then driving might be an issue. Obviously he’d hoped, even started to assume - after almost a month with no hints that Donghyuck was in any kind of relationship - but hearing it out loud is something totally different. 

Relief rushes through Renjun, sinking down to his bones, but there’s no weight to it; he feels lighter than he has in weeks. A spot of tension between his shoulder blades dissolves and as he parks the car, he wonders if it’s just his imagination, or if he can actually breathe easier now than before. 

It takes him an embarrassingly long minute to realize he has to respond to Donghyuck’s comment. He cuts the engine and all of a sudden realizes how quiet the car is. “Uh,” he starts intelligently, “I feel you. About being single.” The words come out slightly strangled as Renjun’s brain struggles to catch up to his mouth, and they fall flat in the empty air of the car.

Donghyuck doesn’t seem to mind though; he just grins at Renjun like this is exactly what he’d wanted to hear. (It doesn’t strike Renjun in the moment that maybe it _is_.) “Oh yeah? You have an obviously pining cousin and his equally obvious best friend too?”

Renjun reaches for his door and pushes it open to give himself an extra moment to collect himself. Donghyuck follows his lead, and once they’re both out of the car and Renjun has locked it behind them, Renjun has remembered how to speak like a real human again. “Does this guy I work with and his roommate count?” 

Donghyuck’s brows raise in question. “Depends. What’s their deal?”

“Well Kun - the guy I work with - always complained about his roommate like he was the bane of his existence, but the stuff he complained about was always so small? Like it was never anything deep, so I didn’t ever really get it, but then one day his roommate showed up at the school to drop off lunch for him because he’d forgotten it that morning and I swear to god I’ve never seen two people with so much unresolved sexual tension in my _life_. Like the eye contact I had to witness while I was in the room with them? Hands down one of the most disgusting things I’ve ever seen.”

Donghyuck laughs and the sound rings through the parking lot like a dozen bells chiming while they walk towards the theater doors. 

“So his roommate who he can’t stand and who supposedly also can’t stand him literally went to his place of work just to bring him food? Sounds gay to me.”

“Tell me about it,” Renjun shakes his head. “Ten literally called Kun _baby_ like he was taunting him but also flirting at the same time and I almost threw up at my desk.”

“Oh god that’s some fucking romcom shit right there. Like that’s literally a scene right out of a Netflix movie. I can _see_ it playing in a trailer with some cheesy ass song playing in the background.”

“Stop,” Renjun laughs, reaching out to hit Donghyuck’s shoulder lightly, “I don’t know why anyone would want to see that. Let alone two hours of it. Every encounter I’ve had with them has been a nightmare.”

“Aw, Renjun, sometimes a cheap romance movie is good for the soul.”

“Uh-huh,” Renjun says, thoroughly unconvinced. 

“Come on,” Donghyuck needles him as they walk into the cinema, “I know you liked _Love, Simon_.”

“That’s different,” Renjun insists, “that wasn’t a cheap romance movie. That wasn’t just something they _made_ , it was art.”

Donghyuck opens his mouth, but seems to change his mind before he starts to speak, and closes it again. “You know what, you’re right. I can’t even argue with that. I cried the first time I saw it.”

Renjun smiles, and it’s not just because he’s won the debate. “I know,” he says. “You cried when we watched it together, too.”

The lights in the cinema wash everything out, but Renjun can still see the way Donghyuck flushes at the memory. “I guess I did.”

Renjun’s smile softens and his steps slow as he can’t find the will to drag his eyes away from Donghyuck’s face. Donghyuck slows with him, turns to meet his eyes. Renjun fights the instinct to school his face into something more neutral, less revealing, and is rewarded by the gentle curl of Donghyuck’s lips and warmth glowing in his eyes.

Donghyuck touches his shoulder, fleeting but more than nothing, and steps forward, ushering Renjun along. “Come on, let’s go sneak into this movie before all the good seats are gone.”

So Renjun follows him to the usher podium where Jisung is standing, and Jisung points them to the left, and they slip into theater seven as easy as that. They find seats high in the middle and settle down. After two minutes of trailers, Donghyuck pokes Renjun’s side to get his attention and produces two packs of junior mints from his cardigan pockets, and Renjun stifles a laugh as he pulls out the pack of his _own_ that he’d snuck in. Donghyuck - to his credit - also tries to stifle the excited giggle that slips out of him at their unintentioned coordination, but it comes right as the last trailer ends and the movie starts, and someone two rows down from them hisses at him to quiet down.

Lit faintly by the glow of the movie screen, Donghyuck bites his lower lip, embarrassed, and shrinks in his seat. Renjun reaches across the seat divider to pat Donghyuck’s arm in sympathy, and Donghyuck brightens a bit, relaxing. He shoots Renjun a small smile and Renjun returns it easily. 

If it’s another ten minutes into the movie before Renjun remembers to draw his hand back into his own lap, well, neither of them mention it.

✨

An hour and a half later, they’re the last two people to walk out of the theater, staying until the very end of the credits to discuss the movie in hushed voices while the rest of the seats around them slowly empty out. They’ve both seen it before, so the conversation jumps between _I had forgotten about this part_ and _isn’t the animation still so nice? They don’t draw stuff like this anymore_ and how their opinions have changed over time. 

When the lights come back to full brightness and ushers come into the theater to start cleaning, Renjun and Donghyuck stand and leave together. Donghyuck pouts when they don’t see Jisung on their way out, but is quickly distracted by a _coming soon!_ poster for a romcom featuring two women and a fluffy yellow dog. 

“Oh my god, look at that!” Donghyuck says, pointing at the poster with one hand and tugging Renjun’s sleeve with his other. “We should come see that when it comes out!” 

Renjun hums, and it sounds noncommittal, but it’s just for show. He has no qualms with coming to see another movie with Donghyuck, but he knows Donghyuck likes a little challenge sometimes. 

Donghyuck rolls with it, tugs harder on Renjun’s sleeve and levels him with a pout. “Come on,” he says, “how can you say no to that rep _and_ a puppy? That’s like the dream combo!”

“I never said no,” Renjun points out. 

“You didn’t say yes, though.”

Renjun pretends to deliberate, just long enough for Donghyuck to give his sleeve another short tug, and then he crumbles. “Yeah, okay- let’s go see it when it comes out. Take a picture so you can look it up when we get to the car?”

Donghyuck grins like he’s won the lottery and nods, letting Renjun’s sleeve go so he can pull his phone out of his jean pocket and snap a picture of the poster. He pockets his phone again as soon as he’s done, and comes right back up to Renjun’s side. “We’ll have to coordinate with Jisung’s schedule, but I’m sure it’ll work out.”

“I mean, we _could_ just get tickets like everyone else.”

“And feed the capitalist beast?” Donghyuck shakes his head, “I don’t think so.”

“Well I can’t argue with that,” Renjun laughs. 

Donghyuck throws an arm around Renjun’s shoulder and leans in close so his lips are just inches from Renjun’s ear. “I don’t want to brag, but I _have_ stolen stuff before.”

Renjun shivers at the proximity and squirms out of Donghyuck’s grasp. “I know, Hyuck,” he says, voice slightly strained, “I’ve heard the story - sorry, _stories_ \- of your childhood escapades before.”

“Not all of them!” Donghyuck tells him, far too cheery for the topic at hand.

“Well why don’t you wait until we’re outside where there are no cameras before you start admitting to a life of crime,” Renjun says.

“Smart,” Donghyuck nods, and then he skips forward to reach for the door that leads to the parking lot. He tugs it open and holds it for Renjun with a smile that’s probably meant to be teasing, but errs heavily on the sweet side.

Renjun ducks his head to hide the heat rushing to his cheeks as he passes Donghyuck. “And they say chivalry is dead,” he says, suddenly reminded of Donghyuck’s words from a few weeks earlier.

Donghyuck laughs, the sound bright in the muted darkness of the parking lot. Renjun feels himself flush even more, face warm despite the chilly night air. Donghyuck takes a single step with those dangerously long legs of his and he’s right back at Renjun’s side. “I think I’d be a great knight. Swords can’t be that heavy, and how hard do you think riding a horse even is?”

“Um, pretty hard probably. You have to take a lot of lessons to learn to do it right, don't you?”

“I mean, if twelve year old girls can do it, I feel like I should be able to handle it just fine.”

Renjun lets out a breath, is hit by war flashbacks of the one and only time he’d ever been asked to help babysit the children of family friends. “I would _not_ say that so confidently. Pre-teen girls are a different kind of beast; they can do _anything_. I think at some point they’ve all looked god in the face and flipped them off.”

Donghyuck lets out a surprised laugh. “Oh yeah? Sounds like there’s a story there.”

Renjun shakes his head. “It’s not one I want to recall. Like, ever. I’ve blocked it from my memory.”

“That bad huh?” Donghyuck sounds impressed. “Well I’ll never underestimate pre-teen girls ever again.”

“Smart,” Renjun nods, “you should never underestimate any girls. It reinforces the patriarchy.”

Donghyuck comes to a stop at the hood of Renjun’s car and spins to face Renjun and salute him. “Aye aye, Captain! Screw the patriarchy!”

“You sound so insincere when you say it like that,” Renjun laughs as he unlocks the car and tugs his door open. He slides into his seat and Donghyuck hurries to follow him. 

“I really mean it though,” Donghyuck insists after tugging the passenger door shut and buckling his seatbelt. “My sister keeps me educated on this stuff. And sometimes at night when I can’t fall asleep, my brain plays reruns of that powerpoint Yeri made about women’s rights sophomore year. That shit is ingrained in my subconscious.”

Renjun laughs loudly as he starts the engine, and the sound of more laughter echoes through the car for the rest of the ride back to Donghyuck’s apartment, woven through conversation like a glittering gold thread, tying them together regardless of the topic at hand. 

As they near Donghyuck’s apartment though, Donghyuck grows quieter, and when Renjun parks in his usual spot on the street and finally turns to face Donghyuck, he finds that half Donghyuck’s lower lip is sucked into his mouth and his eyes are focused on his lap. He looks nervous. 

Renjun’s heart stutters in his chest, but before he has the chance to ask Donghyuck what’s wrong, Donghyuck is turning to him with a determined light in his eyes. “Would you mind coming up to my apartment with me?” Donghyuck asks, “I have something to give you, actually.”

Renjun’s heart stutters again, and it can’t be good for his health, but thoughts of his health are far from his mind. Renjun looks at Donghyuck and all he can do is nod, try to remember to breathe when a light smile breaks across Donghyuck’s face and he looks painfully handsome there in the low-light. After a moment of stillness, Renjun has to look away before it gets to be too much and he runs the risk of doing something foolish.

He tugs the keys from the ignition and opens his door after Donghyuck, locks his car and steps around the front to follow Donghyuck to his building. They head inside in a delicate kind of silence, Donghyuck leading them to an elevator that takes them up to the fourth floor. When the doors ding open and they step out into the hall, Donghyuck walks only a few feet to the right before stopping in front of what must be the door to his apartment. 

In the minute it takes Donghyuck to fish out his keys and unlock the door, it feels - to Renjun - like they’re both catching their breath, steeling their nerves. And it’s not to say that Renjun is scared, but he’s aware that there’s something tangible in the air between them: the thickness of unsaid words, the tentative fluttering of something stirring awake after a long night, a cold winter. 

There’s _something,_ delicate and tender, and Renjun can feel it whenever they’re together. It’s a second chance he doesn’t want to shatter by being reckless, so he treads lightly. He’s careful now, and Donghyuck is too.

Donghyuck steps into his apartment and flicks on the lights. Renjun follows him in, and the door clicks shut lightly behind him. Inside, it’s clean, but clearly lived in, evidence of both Donghyuck and Jisung’s presence everywhere Renjun looks. It feels comfortable even though Renjun’s never seen it through more than glimpses at the back of Donghyuck’s video calls before. 

Donghyuck toes off his sneakers, arranging them neatly on a short shoe stand, but tells Renjun he’s fine to keep his own on. Renjun nods, and when Donghyuck straightens up again and ushers him into the kitchen, Renjun follows. 

They come to a stop next to the counter, and both their eyes fall on the white paperboard box sitting on the countertop. Renjun looks between the box and Donghyuck as Donghyuck steps forward and folds the box open to reveal what’s inside.

It’s a cake: round and thick, covered with a layer of smooth frosting - chocolate, if the color is anything to go by - and it has Renjun’s name and a small balloon detailed across it in green piping. 

“I know you probably already have some kind of plans with Jaemin and Jeno for your birthday, but I thought it couldn’t hurt to add some cake to the mix,” Donghyuck says, voice soft in the quiet of his apartment. “I wasn’t sure if it would be weird to get you something, but you said you liked the cookies I made, so…” he trails off, gesturing weakly at the cake. His eyes dance across Renjun’s face, like he can’t look any one place too long, but can’t look away either.

Renjun takes a small step closer, moving into Donghyuck’s space so he can rest a hand on Donghyuck’s arm. “Thank you,” he says, keeping his eyes on Donghyuck’s until Donghyuck finally meets his gaze. He hopes it shows on his face, just how much he means the words. “This is perfect.” His voice is painfully gentle, too much emotion bleeding into it. The honesty makes Renjun feel naked, all of his heart exposed under the kitchen lights, beating too hard for Donghyuck right there where he can see it. 

But Donghyuck’s expression is open, his eyes wide and his lips parted as he sucks in a shaking breath. He’s being honest too, braver than Renjun in a way that gives Renjun the courage he needs to meet Donghyuck in the middle. A smile breaks through the nerves on Donghyuck’s face, small and shy, but as warm as Donghyuck always is. Renjun feels himself smile too. 

“Happy birthday,” Donghyuck says, voice still low, but no longer afraid.

“Thanks,” Renjun says, and the word tastes sweet on his tongue. Before he can overthink it, he steps in even closer and wraps his arms around Donghyuck, pulling him into a hug. 

Donghyuck reacts like it’s second nature to him, arms coming up to circle Renjun’s back, squeezing just enough to press them chest to chest, so they’re close enough for Renjun to rest his head against Donghyuck’s. His body is warm, the material of his cardigan soft under Renjun’s skin, and Renjun thinks he might be melting, right there in Donghyuck’s tiny kitchen. Right there in Donghyuck’s arms.

Renjun’s eyes fall shut and he drags in a breath, feeling dizzy. Donghyuck smells like cotton, crisp and clean, a summer dream. Renjun squeezes a little harder and lets himself relish in the feeling of being so close to Donghyuck, holding him and being held. 

The hug lasts a beat and a half too long, too much for such a delicate moment, but Renjun can’t bring himself to care. When he finally loosens his grip and steps back, there’s a look on Donghyuck’s face he can’t quite read. ( Maybe he’s fooling himself; maybe he knows exactly what it means, but he’s over-cautious, pretends he doesn’t see the light shining in Donghyuck’s eyes, the sunrise flush on his cheeks. There are lines he won’t try to cross tonight. )

“Thank you,” he says again, because it’s the safest thing he can think of with a scattered brain, and he means it, so much that he wants to make sure Donghyuck _knows_. 

Donghyuck smiles, as sweet as the cake he’s made. “I’m glad you like it,” he admits, “I hope it tastes good.”

“You know it does,” Renjun says, “don’t you always make a mini version with the batter to taste test?”

Donghyuck lets out a light laugh, more a surprised breath than anything else. Renjun swears Donghyuck’s eyes are twinkling when he looks at him. “You got me,” Donghyuck says, voice still light with amusement, breathy with something stronger, “I hope _you_ think it tastes good, too.”

“Well I’ll let you know,” Renjun promises. 

Donghyuck turns to close the cake box again, lifting it from the counter and turning to set it in Renjun’s waiting hands. 

“Thanks,” they say at the same time. 

Donghyuck laughs again, a bit bolder than before. Renjun’s face splits open in a wide grin, and he can’t take his eyes off of Donghyuck. Even under the yellow light, with his bright eyes and flushed cheeks, Donghyuck looks so lovely it hurts just a little bit. 

A light ache settles in Renjun’s chest, right alongside the warmth that blooms whenever he’s with Donghyuck- they’re tied together, like smoke rising from flame, thorns growing on flower stems. Renjun realizes all at once that having Donghyuck just like this - more than he’d dared to hope for but still not _enough_ \- will always be bittersweet. His time with Donghyuck will be like watching a fiery summer sunset, basking in the warmth and beauty while it lasts, but knowing that the vibrant colors will fade, the heat will turn to the chill of night all too soon.

Renjun is in love with Donghyuck- too in love. This kind of love makes him selfish, makes him want Donghyuck so much he doesn’t know what to do. He’s missed Donghyuck too much to let him go again, and he doesn’t want to jeopardize what they have now. He’s missed being with Donghyuck so much and now he’s _here_ , in Renjun’s life, lighting up days that used to just blend together, but Renjun’s missed more than just Donghyuck’s presence. He misses Donghyuck’s touch, his hands and lips, he misses knowing that Donghyuck trusts him enough to let him make a home in Donghyuck’s heart, misses knowing Donghyuck had made a home of his own in Renjun’s. 

It all happens in a single moment, the realization coming between one heartbeat and the next, too fast for Renjun to fully process. All he can do is take the cake box from Donghyuck and feel their fingers brush fleetingly before Donghyuck steps away again. All he can do is nod when Donghyuck tells him to drive home safely, drink in the sight of Donghyuck’s face graced by a smile as long as he can before he has to turn away and leave Donghyuck’s apartment. 

The door falls shut behind him as he steps into the hall and Renjun is alone with the silence and his thoughts. He moves for the elevator on autopilot, feet carrying him forward on their own. He hits the button with his elbow, careful not to lose his grip on the cake box, and waits for the doors to ding open. The lift goes down, deposits him on the ground floor, and Renjun walks out of the building and into the night. 

There’s a flash of background noise in the distance from the building to his car, but as soon as Renjun unlocks the doors and slides into the driver’s seat, tugging the door shut after him, the silence is overwhelming again. He sets the cake box gingerly on the floor below the passenger seat, safe where it can’t fall or be knocked around by turns, and then slumps against his seatback. 

Renjun stares out the front window, but his eyes are blank; he doesn’t see the night sky or the streetlights. The image of Donghyuck’s rosy, smiling face is branded in his mind, and for a long time, it’s all he can see. He’s not sure how long he sits there in his car, parked outside of Donghyuck’s apartment, trying to figure out what to do about the clenching in his heart at the thought of losing Donghyuck again, of never being able to lay in the same bed with him, run fingers through his soft hair, press kisses to his lips, his skin.

Eventually, thinking gets to be too much, and Renjun has to tear himself out of his own head. He starts the car and turns on the radio - louder than he can usually stand it - to drown out the sound of his own thoughts. He pulls away from the curb and drives himself home, but all the way back, even with the music pouring from his speakers, he can _feel_ it: the permanent mark Donghyuck has left on him, the strength of his own feelings.

✨

By the time he’s standing in front of his own apartment, keys in one hand and the cake box in the other, it’s less than two hours from midnight, but if not for the cake box in his hands, he would have forgotten entirely that his birthday was almost upon him. Renjun unlocks the door and steps inside, kicking it shut behind himself. 

He kneels, setting the cake box on the floor so he can tug off his shoes and put them away, and when he stands again, the door to his bedroom is opening, Jaemin’s head sticking out. 

“You’re back late,” Jaemin says, brows raised curiously. He looks at Renjun, looks at the cake box when he picks it up and moves to stand. “What’s that?”

Renjun steps down the hall and juts his chin towards the table in lieu of answering. He makes it to his usual chair and collapses into it, setting the box down in front of himself, folding the top back so Jaemin can peer down at it. “Donghyuck made it for me,” he says in explanation.

Jaemin lets out a low whistle, eyeing the cake for a moment before looking back to Renjun. It takes all of five seconds for Renjun to crack under Jaemin’s stare. 

“I’m in love with him,” Renjun whispers. It’s the first time he’s admitted it out loud; he’d thought saying the words would make them too real, but it’s clear to him now that they already are. No matter what he does, loving Donghyuck is a truth he can’t change- a truth he doesn’t _want_ to change. 

Jaemin blinks at him, sits down carefully in his own chair. “Still? Or again?”

Renjun shakes his head. “I don’t know. I just am.”

Jaemin reaches across the table to rest his hand on Renjun’s arm, a quiet support while he tries to figure out what to say. Renjun sighs, hanging his head. “I don’t know what to do,” he admits.

“Do you want to get back together?” Jaemin asks gently.

“Yeah,” Renjun breathes, “so fucking bad. But I don’t want to screw everything up when I just got him back.” He looks up at Jaemin again, hoping to find a sense of calm in his familiar face, his comforting presence. “I can’t lose him again.”

And Jaemin does help Renjun stay calm, approaching the issue thoughtfully, with careful contemplation; he’s removed enough from the emotion to look at it all in a more straightforward way. “Did you ever find out if he’s single?”

Renjun nods. “He mentioned it today.”

Jaemin perks up at this. “That’s good! Right? How did he say it? Was it like he was trying to let you know he was available without outright saying it?”

Renjun thinks back to the conversation in the car, Donghyuck complaining about his cousin. “I don’t know.”

A fraction of the light leaves Jaemin’s face, but he keeps a small, hopeful smile on his face. “Does he know _you’re_ single?”

Renjun nods again, “I mentioned it after he did.”

“So the first step’s totally out of the way now! That’s something, at least.” Jaemin gives Renjun’s forearm a light squeeze, face growing contemplative again. “Do you feel it when you’re with him? The-” he gestures with his free hand “- _tension_ thing that happens when you both like each other?”

Renjun is quiet for a long moment, staring at the grain of the table. He knows he feels _something_ , but is it all in his head? Is it just him? He thinks of Donghyuck’s shy smiles and careful touches, how they’re so different from what he offers to others. _But then, no one else has broken his heart like Renjun_. 

When Renjun tries to say, _I don’t know_ , though, he remembers Donghyuck’s arms around him in the grocery store, in his kitchen. Renjun remembers the too-long hug Donghyuck hadn’t shied away from, the look that had been on his face when Renjun finally pulled back. 

So Renjun finds himself looking up from the table with hope curling in his chest. “I think so,” he says, and it feels like the truth.

Jaemin’s smile grows, like he can tell Renjun’s found his footing again. “Work with that, then. You know Donghyuck, and he knows you. Just listen to him, make sure you _let_ him listen to you. Feel things out and go from there. It doesn’t have to be too complicated; love’s an art, not a science.” He pauses, smile sharpening, “And you’re a pretty fucking good artist, man.”

Renjun huffs out a laugh, shaking his head. Just like that, the doubt and uncertainty that had been growing in him falls away, retreating into the back of his mind. It’s not gone, but it’s faded enough that he can breathe easily again. He gives Jaemin a grateful smile, and Jaemin grins right back at him. 

“I know, I’m the best friend ever,” he laughs, “you don’t even have to say it.”

Renjun rolls his eyes, but the smile stays on his face. He doesn’t disagree. 

“Anyway,” Jaemin says, giving Renjun’s arm a pat before leaning back in his chair, “I think you should go shower and get out of those jeans so you’re all good to go for midnight. No offense to your movie fit, but there’s no way it’s as comfy as pajamas.”

Renjun narrows his eyes, but doesn’t hesitate to stand and follow Jaemin’s suggestion - a shower and sweats _does_ sound nice. “What’s happening at midnight?”

“Jeno and I are going to serenade you with a song and dance to celebrate you becoming an old man,” Jaemin says, voice flat and face entirely straight. Renjun might almost think he was serious if not for the years they’ve been friends and the twitch in Jaemin’s cheek where he’s trying to suppress a grin.

He gives Jaemin a dead stare, holding out until Jaemin abandons the teasing and bursts out laughing. “I’m kidding,” he says, “I just thought it would be cool if we gave you your cards tonight when you’re more likely to cry over them.”

“You’re so lucky I like you,” Renjun sighs, though there’s no bite to the statement.

Jaemin just nods, shooing him off to their room with a wide grin. “You love me, Junnie,” he calls after Renjun’s retreating back. Renjun doesn’t bother fighting him on it; they both know Jaemin’s right, anyway. 

So Renjun goes, showers, changes. He listens to Taylor Swift’s 22 just for the novelty of it, and queues 23 by IU so it plays as soon as the time changes on his phone, from 11:59 to 12:00. He walks out of his room to find Jeno and Jaemin waiting for him with matching grins and cards in hand. 

Jeno’s card is short but sweet, and when he wishes Renjun a happy birthday, Renjun feels like he’s known him so much longer than he really has. It’s a nice feeling, light and warm in his chest. 

Jaemin gives Renjun a joke card first, laughs too loud for the hour when Renjun tries to hide his amusement as he levels Jaemin with a glare and says, jokingly, _I didn’t realize you wanted me to cry of disappointment._

After the laughter, Jaemin passes Renjun his real card, and it’s heartfelt and cheesy and peppered with curses. Renjun pretends it doesn’t make him the slightest bit misty-eyed, but Jaemin sees right through him. “At least there’s no way to put emojis on paper, or this really would have been too much,” Renjun says once he’s read the card all the way through and tucked it carefully back into its envelope. 

Jaemin scoffs and launches himself at Renjun, tackling him in a hug too warm to fight against. At a quarter past midnight, Renjun grabs a knife and forks from the kitchen, and Jaemin rummages through two drawers and a cupboard before following Renjun to the table. Together they stick candles in the cake Donghyuck had made, and Jeno turns off the main light when Jaemin strikes a match and lights the candles. 

Renjun watches the small flames flicker as Jaemin chants, _make a wish!_ He closes his eyes and does just that. This year, choosing a wish comes easily.

When Jeno turns the lights back on, Renjun cuts them all a small slice of cake, and they eat together at the table. Jaemin says something about how jealous his ten year old self would be if he could see him now, and Jeno says he doesn’t believe for a second that ten year old Jaemin never snuck midnight treats for himself regardless of his parents’ rules. Jaemin makes a face, unable to deny the accusation, and Renjun laughs. 

They spend an hour together at the table, staying to talk even after their slices of cake are gone and Renjun has closed the box to remove the temptation of cutting any more to eat so late in the night. When conversation peeters off into regular yawns, the three of them setting each other off in a never ending loop, Renjun stands and excuses himself for the night. 

He brushes his teeth and crawls into bed with a lightness in his chest that makes him think maybe he’ll be able to fly in his dreams when they come. Just before he closes his eyes, he dims the screen of his phone and types out a text: _the cake is delicious_.

He’s asleep before he knows it.

✨

Nothing changes overnight.

Renjun’s birthday is a quiet affair, just as he’d planned. He skypes his parents and sends thanks back to all the well wishes he gets after Jaemin talks him into posting a picture with a birthday filter over it. He eats an irresponsible amount of cake and the Chinese snacks Jeno gives him as a gift. He paints until his hands cramp and then tricks Jaemin into watching an old movie with him. 

For dinner, Jaemin cooks an honest meal - the recipe for which he’d had to call home and get his mother to dig out of her cookbook and email to him - and turns it into food _and_ a show when he spends a solid ten minutes bickering with Jeno about who has to do the dishes afterwards.

At the end of the day, just before midnight, Renjun gets one last birthday wish. His phone lights up with a message from Donghyuck: _I know I’m not the first, but I am the last! Happy birthday, Renjun! I hope you had a good day and your birthday wish comes true, whatever it was. I’m glad you liked the cake._ The text is signed off with a heart. 

Nothing changes overnight; it comes gradually, like the slow turn of winter into spring, each day a bit warmer than the last.


	2. golden

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi again! minor content warning for this chapter~ there is a scene with drinking and much much later there is driving, but i did my best to make it very clear as it was happening that the driver consumes very little alcohol and that a long enough period of time passes in between the drinking and the driving for the driver to be completely clear-headed, but if that makes you uncomfortable, you can skip those scenes (most of the night out with mark) and still understand the rest of the fic.

The week passes by in a blur of schoolwork and lesson preps as Renjun and Kun do their best to prepare their class for the midterms they all have to face before being graced by the relief of spring break. Renjun doesn’t mind the work, really, as it keeps him busy and his mind occupied so he doesn’t ever get the chance to overthink the Donghyuck situation. By Friday, all Renjun is dreaming of is crashing on the couch, binging some new Netflix show, and temporarily forgetting what the world outside his apartment looks like.

It’s almost embarrassing how easily he lets those plans fly out the window, though, when Donghyuck calls him as he’s driving home, says that Mark is on  _ his  _ spring break, is flying down from Vancouver to spend the week with Donghyuck, and wants to know if Renjun and Jaemin want to catch up over drinks or something. 

“I’ll have to ask Jaemin, but I would love to,” Renjun says. “God, I haven’t seen Mark in forever.” 

“Yeah, it’s been a while,” Donghyuck agrees. “He’s coming down tonight, so if you’re free tomorrow or Sunday we could all go out. Wait, I guess if we’re drinking it has to be tomorrow, right? Or do you already have plans?” 

“My plans were sweats and sci-fi,” Renjun laughs, “I think I can push them back a bit.”

“Oh, okay,” Donghyuck lets out a relieved breath. “That’s good.”

“Yeah.”

There’s silence on the line for a minute before Donghyuck asks, “Any chance you know a good spot for us all to go?”

A laugh tumbles out of Renjun before he can hold it back. “I thought you did a lot of exploring when you first got here? Did you not find anything?”

Donghyuck groans. “Nothing that would work. I’m not bringing Mark somewhere crazy - he’s a sentimental drunk; he needs something homey and warm. I figured you probably know at least a couple places like that since you’re not big on the party scene. Besides, we should catch up, not get wasted.”

“Wow, Donghyuck, you’ve really grown,” Renjun says, a teasing lilt to his voice.

“Shut up,” Donghyuck grumbles, though there’s no real anger in the words. “Do you know a place or do I have to risk using google?”

“I know a place, don’t worry,” Renjun says, “I’ll send you the info when I get home.” 

“You’re the best! Thanks!”

“Yeah, yeah,” Renjun says despite the warmth curling in his chest, “I just don’t want to go to some random google-recommended place and have it suck.”

“Well then we’re on the same page.” Donghyuck’s tone is light, but when he says, “ _ I love the way you  _ get  _ me _ ,” the words seem to carry weight. 

Renjun swallows, doesn’t trust his voice to come out right after Donghyuck’s statement. He tries to stop himself from reading too much into it, but overthinking is one of his fatal flaws- great for literature papers and not much else. “You too,” he ends up saying after a moment of regaining his bearings.  _ We match so well. Almost perfect. _

Donghyuck, maybe sensing the dangerous turn the conversation is about to take, steers them back to safer, shallower waters. Renjun is both grateful and disappointed, but he loves Donghyuck’s stories, regardless of their depth, so he lets himself get carried away in the gentle current set by a tale of Donghyuck coming home early to find Jisung and his friend pillaging his secret stash of food. Donghyuck complains that he needs to find  _ another  _ new hiding spot for it, and Renjun laughs. It’s nice, easy.

For now, it’s enough.

✨

Late Saturday afternoon finds Renjun not on his couch like he’d planned, but parking his trusted car, Patience, in a lot by the beach. The bar and grill he’s picked out for the get-together is on the same stretch of beach that Renjun likes to walk when he has the time, or needs to clear his head. It’s the same beach he’d been walking down when he caught sight of Donghyuck all those weeks ago, the same beach that had miraculously brought Donghyuck back into his life. 

Renjun hopes being near it will give him a little extra luck once more.

The thing is, as excited as he is to see Mark again - they  _ had  _ been good friends in college - he’s also so nervous that he’s glad he’s the designated driver, because the thought of strong alcohol is making his gut turn over unpleasantly. Mark had always been Donghyuck’s friend before he was Renjun’s, and after the breakup, Renjun hadn’t wanted to push any boundaries or put Mark in an uncomfortable position, so he’d lost touch almost immediately, settling for simply following Mark’s life through instagram updates and word of mouth (read: Jaemin telling him whatever he’d heard, because he and Mark still talked sometimes).

Now that Renjun can at least call Donghyuck a friend again, he’s excited by the prospect of reconnecting with Mark too. There’s just the nagging fear that Mark might harbor ill-will with him, maybe not for essentially ghosting him, but for the small detail that is:  _ he broke his best friend’s heart _ . Renjun knows Mark isn’t usually the kind of guy who holds a grudge, but he also knows that all bets are off when it comes to Donghyuck. 

Jaemin tells him he has nothing to worry about, that  _ Mark literally said he wanted to meet and catch up, dumbass _ , but still, Renjun worries. Mark is like an extension of Donghyuck’s family, and Renjun cares an awful lot what Mark thinks of him, of his relationship with Donghyuck. 

His feet drag as he overthinks everything, and finally Jaemin has to circle back and kick his ass (literally) to get him into motion. “Dude, you're never gonna find out what he thinks of you if we never actually get to the fucking bar. Come on, he’s not even that built, if he wants to fight, you could probably take him.”

“Wow, very helpful,” Renjun mutters, but he picks up his feet and starts walking at a human pace. 

“You know he’s not going to fight you,” Jaemin says, kicking at the thin layer of sand that coats the parking lot pavement. “He likes you, and he knows what happened with Donghyuck wasn’t even totally your fault. Plus, you and Donghyuck like each other again, so why wouldn’t Mark? If Donghyuck is happy, Mark will be too. They’re gross like that.”

“You’re full of it,” Renjun says, “I know you think it’s sweet that they have each other’s backs like that.”

Jaemin makes a face at him. “You can’t prove that.”

“You’ve literally said it to me more than once,” Renjun counters.

“Nothing I ever said in college can be used against me,” Jaemin says, “I’ve grown.”

“Uh-huh, sure.” Renjun can’t see himself, but he  _ knows  _ his face is unimpressed- he can feel it.

Jaemin remains undeterred, and he flashes Renjun one of his classic distraction smiles - the kind he uses to try and weasel his way out of trouble with a little sparkle and charm. Renjun doesn’t know what its success rate is with other people, but after five years, it almost never works on him, and this time is no exception to the rule. Today, his stoney front holds strong even in the face of his impossible fondness for Jaemin, so all Jaemin gets for his trouble is a half-hearted scoff. 

Renjun realizes a minute later, though, that he’d managed to underestimate Jaemin’s cunning. As they step up to the entrance of the bar and grill, and Renjun is smacked in the face by the fact that the queasy feeling in his stomach has mostly subsided, and shoots Jaemin a startled look only to find that Jaemin is already grinning at him, pride in his eyes. The distraction had worked after all; Jaemin hadn’t been trying to draw Renjun’s attention away from his antics, but from his own Mark-induced anxiety.

Renjun punches Jaemin’s shoulder (gently) in thanks, and Jaemin just keeps smiling. A sense of calm washes over Renjun, and it keeps his nerves at bay. He’s beyond grateful that Jaemin had agreed to join the mini college reunion with him, even if he’d just done it to meet up with Mark and Donghyuck again- his familiar presence is just the reassurance Renjun needs to get himself to step into the building and scan the inside for Donghyuck and Mark’s faces.

After almost a full sweep of the floor, he spots them in a booth at the back corner. Mark’s head is buried in a menu, but Donghyuck is facing the entrance, and when Renjun catches sight of him, he’s already looking right at them. The moment Renjun turns in Donghyuck’s direction, Donghyuck’s eyes focus right on him, and his face splits in a smile as Renjun raises an arm to wave.

Renjun nudges Jaemin and they walk over to the booth together. As they approach, Donghyuck stands up from his seat, and Mark shuffles out after him so they can greet Renjun and Jaemin together.

"Hey, guys!” Mark says, lighting up at the sight of them. “What's up? It's been a while!" 

“Yeah, like two years,” Jaemin says, shaking his head, “I swear it feels like it’s been ten.” 

“The passage of time is messed  _ up  _ dude,” Mark agrees, pulling a grinning Jaemin into a one-armed hug as soon as he’s within reach. 

It doesn’t look like much time has passed at all between them, and Renjun feels a flash of insecurity before Donghyuck’s hand is on his arm and Mark and Jaemin as good as disappear. Renjun focuses on Donghyuck’s bright eyes, and when he smiles, wide and unrestrained, it’s like nothing else in the world exists but Donghyuck. 

“Hey, you,” Donghyuck says, “been a while.”

“A whole week,” Renjun says, tone light though his heart beats wildly at how close Donghyuck is, at his hand still gripping Renjun’s arm, at the warm smile on his face.

“But you’re a whole year older now.”

“I feel the same,” Renjun says, and it’s true in more ways than one. 

Donghyuck blinks at him, lips parted but not speaking. The moment is as delicate and fleeting as a flake of snow, melting away when Mark and Jaemin’s combined warmth turns towards Renjun and Donghyuck. 

“Hey, man!” Mark says to Renjun, startling his attention away from Donghyuck. He doesn’t go in for a hug, but claps Renjun on the shoulder good-naturedly, offering a genuine, lopsided grin.

“Hey,” he says, sounding slightly dazed as he recovers from the whiplash. “How’ve you been?”

“Good!” Mark says, nodding his head to drive the point home.

“I heard you still want to be an English teacher? Classic lit still buttering your toast?” Renjun asks, only to immediately want to put his head through a wall. He can’t believe the first thing he’s said to Mark in  _ two years  _ is  _ classic lit still buttering your toast.  _

Mark just laughs though, the sound infectious enough that Renjun lets out a (slightly nervous) laugh of his own. In his periphery, he can see Jaemin tugging Donghyuck into a hug, greeting him with a  _ hey, how’re you doing? I’ve heard so much about you this past month.  _ Renjun doesn’t even fully process the flash of embarrassment that hits him at Jaemin’s casual (but most  _ certainly  _ planned) comment, because Mark speaks again and Renjun’s full attention returns to him.

“Not just classic lit, but yeah.” He laughs again, “My toast is definitely buttered.” Before Renjun can stew in embarrassment any longer, Mark barrels on. “Hyuck told me you’re also teaching! How is that?”

“Oh.” Renun blinks, a bit surprised by the fact that Mark knows  _ things  _ about him. That Donghyuck has talked about him. “It’s good! It’s pretty much the same as what I expected, but there are always some random curveballs to keep things crazy - I mean  _ interesting _ .” 

Mark laughs again, and Renjun feels himself relax. He remembers that Mark has always been good at making people feel comfortable around him, and in turn, starts to forget what he was so worried about before all this started. 

It looks like Mark wants to say something more, but before he can get the words out, Donghyuck interrupts, reminding them where they are, and that they should probably slide back into their booth before a worker chews them out for just standing around and chatting. 

So the four of them shuffle into seats, Jaemin and Mark go first, each on opposite sides of the table, and Renjun and Donghyuck follow. Once Renjun is settled, he looks up, across the table, and finds himself meeting Donghyuck’s eyes. His pulse jumps in his throat, like his beating heart has risen from his chest to choke him before he can even order food. 

The smile Donghyuck offers him then is shyer than before, and it soothes the racing of Renjun’s heart, softens something inside of him and leaves him feeling open and warm. He smiles back, and some of the nerves fade from Donghyuck’s face. 

“So,” Mark coughs, snatching Renjun’s attention away from Donghyuck once more, “I’ve never really been to a bar and grill before. What kind of stuff do you like to order?”

Just like that, Renjun remembers that he and Donghyuck aren’t alone today. He realizes with a jolt that he’s grown all too accustomed to having Donghyuck’s attention all to himself when they’re together, that he’s grown startlingly used to letting his whole world narrow down to just Donghyuck’s familiar frame, his bright eyes and wide smile, his warm laugh. 

Renjun realizes he’s going to have to work to make sure he doesn’t spend the whole evening focused solely on Donghyuck. 

The next few minutes fly by. Renjun ends up leading the group in placing orders for both food and drinks, and soon their individual menus have been whisked away by a waiter, and conversation turns from  _ fuck appetizers, they’re a scam _ , to the catching up they’d planned the outing for in the first place. 

Renjun tunes Jaemin out as he gets carried away revealing details of his life that Renjun already knows - much to his displeasure, in some cases. Mark and Donghyuck both watch Jaemin while he talks, and so Renjun lets his eyes wander while they’re distracted by Jaemin’s stories.

Renjun’s gaze, as always, lands on Donghyuck. He doesn’t stare for long, just enough to take in the curve of his neck and jaw as he turns towards Jaemin, the slope of his nose and cheekbones, the warm tone of his skin, beautiful even during this sunless season. Donghyuck’s hair has been slowly growing out, getting longer each time Renjun sees him, and now it falls down past his eyes in the front, framing his face with soft waves. 

Renjun ducks his head, looking at the table for a moment as soon as he feels himself start to linger too long on Donghyuck. He catches a surprised remark from Mark, but doesn’t know what Jaemin has said to prompt it. He counts to three in his head, lets out a breath, and lets himself look up again. He freezes when he finds Donghyuck watching him, doesn’t dare breathe until Donghyuck’s eyes flit back to Jaemin. Renjun isn’t sure whether he just caught Donghyuck staring, or Donghyuck caught him staring first. 

He swallows thickly, wondering if maybe it had been both. 

If Donghyuck  _ had  _ felt him staring, he doesn’t seem to be bothered by it; there’s a hint of a smile playing on his lips as he nods along to Jaemin’s story, and his cheeks have the faintest dusting of pink. Renjun thinks maybe it’s possible that Donghyuck is actually pleased to know that Renjun is barely able to keep his eyes off him. The thought gives Renjun an excuse to keep stealing glances at Donghyuck all through the rest of Jaemin’s review of the last two years. 

Once or twice, Renjun’s eyes skip over to Donghyuck, only to find Donghyuck already looking at him. Each time, they share a beat of sustained eye contact before both looking back to Jaemin, cheeks just a bit pinker than before. 

Finally, Jaemin exhausts himself, and passes the conversation baton to Renjun so he can down half of one of the glasses of water their waiter had brought over to get them started. Mark turns to Renjun expectantly, but under the weight of Donghyuck’s now-undivided attention on him, Renjun freezes. He can feel Donghyuck’s eyes hot on his skin even as he looks at Mark and tries to think of something to say. 

There’s a moment of awkward silence, punctuated by Jaemin gulping down his water, and then Renjun is saved by their waiter returning with the real drinks they’d ordered. Renjun’s glass is the first one on the table, and he pulls it closer right away, lifts it to his lips and takes a sip. It’s just hard lemonade, watered down by more ice cubes than Renjun can count, but just the fact that there’s alcohol in it is enough to kill a bit of his nerves.

When their waiter has left again with a word about their food taking a bit longer still, Renjun feels prepared enough to speak. He looks to Mark once again, and passes leadership of the conversation over to him like a hot potato. “How’s grad school and everything?” Renjun asks, hoping going straight to it will distract from the fact that Jaemin had insinuated that Renjun would be the next one in line to share his stories. “You’re almost out, right?”

Mark looks slightly surprised, but takes it in stride. “Yeah,” he says, “just a couple more weeks after this break and then I’ll be done.” 

Mark takes a sip of beer, goes on to talk about his experiences in grad school, about how being back in Canada has been really nice - how he'd missed it a lot while he lived in Chicago, even if the windy city was just as cold sometimes. Mark tells them that he's already got work lined up, that he's been tinkering with an idea for a book that he wants to write, but doesn't know how far he'll be able to get into it with all the work he needs to do.

Donghyuck cuts in to nag Mark about  _ making excuses not to chase his dreams _ , and Renjun finally lets himself glance over at Donghyuck again. When Jaemin had been talking and Mark's eyes had been focused on him, Renjun had been able to get away with letting his attention drift to Donghyuck, but now that Mark is the one telling stories, he spends half his time looking at Renjun, keeping him pinned in place. It's both a relief and a curse - to know he can't just stare at Donghyuck - but the scales tip the moment Donghyuck's side-comment breaks the spell holding Renjun together.

Mark carries on with his stories, but from then on, every time he shifts his attention to Jaemin so he doesn't feel left out, Renjun's eyes skip to the left and rake greedily over Donghyuck's face before jumping back to Mark's before he can be caught.

It's silly. Renjun feels like he's back in college- or  _ worse _ , like he's back in high school. Like he's sneaking secret glances at his off-limits crush in the middle of class and seeing how many times he can get away with it before the teacher chews him out for not paying attention.

He feels foolish, because he hadn't even been this big of a mess when he  _ was  _ a teenager. He hadn't been this big of a mess the  _ first  _ time he liked Donghyuck. Although, he supposes that's not a fair comparison to make, since the last time he'd wanted to date Donghyuck, he hadn't been in love with him, and he hadn't already broken his heart. He hadn't known what it was really like to be with him, and he hadn't known what it was like to be without him.

All things considered, it's a tricky situation. But perhaps choosing an eatery on the beach did bring Renjun some kind of luck after all, because before he can dip too deep into the swirling pool of thoughts in his head, he's saved once more by their waiter.

Mark is in the middle of recounting a slightly disastrous day of his student-teaching experience when Donghyuck catches sight of the waiter approaching their table with a large tray balanced in his arms. "Press pause on that story, man, the food's here," Donghyuck says.

Mark's mouth clicks shut and all four of them turn to face their waiter, who recites their orders and places each dish in front of its respective owner. When they're all settled, Jaemin asks the waiter for top-offs of everyone's waters in a sweet voice, smiling brightly at him when he says he can bring a pitcher over.

"You're still such a charmer," Donghyuck says when the waiter has come and gone again, and Jaemin has thanked him earnestly enough to receive a smile that wasn't blatantly faked.

Jaemin just shrugs in response, like it's no big deal. Renjun rolls his eyes.

Mark points between the two of them and laughs, and all of a sudden Renjun feels like he's stepped into a time machine and rewound the clock. Donghyuck titters along with Mark, and for a moment, Renjun could swear they were all back in college, back in the old diner where they used to get late lunches on weekends. It feels so easy it makes everything hurt just a little bit. 

The nostalgia hits Renjun hard, without warning. For a moment, his chest aches, longs for something that he can't get back.

Then the light shifts, his eyes are drawn to Donghyuck's face. Like he can feel it too, Donghyuck looks right back at Renjun. His smile softens, and his eyes are warm, catching Renjun's and holding on. It's honey-sweet, and the ache in Renjun's chest eases. Something inside of him that had felt too tight - too constricting - loosens at the sight of Donghyuck's smile. Renjun breathes in and out, and the pain of losing the past fades.

Renjun can't freeze time, not really, but this moment feels stretched, time slowing just enough for him to savor it. It's just enough.

" _ Shit  _ this burger is good," Jaemin says, voice cutting through the fog in Renjun's head and snapping time back to its usual pace. Renjun turns away from Donghyuck to eye Jaemin's plate, which has one of the biggest burgers he's ever seen sitting on it - one large bite missing.

"It's rude to talk with your mouth full," Renjun says automatically. He doesn't dare look up to Jaemin's face; he's been burned too many times before by the sight of half-eaten food in Jaemin's mouth on full display while he talks around it without a care. "And it's  _ gross _ ."

"I was raised by wolves," Jaemin says, mouth still full.

"More like pigs," Renjun mutters.

Jaemin jabs him in the side, and he jumps, nearly sending himself right out of the booth.

"You guys haven't changed that much at all," Mark says, fondness in his voice despite - or perhaps  _ because  _ of - the childish behavior on clear display before him.

"You should've come a couple weeks ago," Jaemin says, this time without speaking through any food. "You missed Junnie's silver hair. That was definitely different."

"Oh yeah, I heard about that." Mark turns to Renjun, a curious look on his face. "I didn't think you'd ever be one to experiment with color. I feel like I remember you not liking the idea of it, right? What changed your mind?"

Renjun shrugs, a bit embarrassed. It's not like he can say the real reason now, can he? "Uh... I guess I just realized it can be cool to switch up your image? I don't know. I just had the spur of the moment thought that I could use a change and that seemed like the safest option. Hair is just hair, right?" It's mostly the truth, at least.

Mark nods, accepting the answer easily. If he somehow knows there's more to the story than just that, he keeps it to himself, doesn't push for anything more. Mark might be a bit awkward at times, but he has good instincts for these kinds of things. Renjun is grateful.

"So what else have you been up to?" Mark asks, forgoing his own story to dig into his food instead.

Renjun pokes at his food. "I worked a catering thing over the summer and then started at my school in the fall. That's pretty much it."

"Catering?" Donghyuck says, surprised. There’s something in his eyes that Renjun can’t place.

Renjun blinks. He realizes in all his conversations with Donghyuck over the past month, he'd never spoken about the catering job. The very first day, he'd mentioned it as a seasonal gig, and nothing more. Following the beat of surprise, however, is a sinking feeling in his gut; he had never mentioned catering before because it was where he'd met Lucas.

Jaemin must connect the same dots Renjun does, because he coughs abruptly. "He brought home the best food sometimes," Jaemin says to fill the silence that has fallen. "I was bummed when wedding season ended."

"Really?" Mark asks. "They let you bring home food?"

"When there were leftovers," Renjun nods. "There weren't always, but a lot of times it was like, a stupid amount of stuff left at the end of the night. Most of the time we didn't even have to bring our own dinners because we could just eat the food we were serving after all the guests got theirs."

"Dude, that sounds like a sweet deal."

"It was, yeah. Even with all the customer service stuff we had to do, it was honestly one of the better jobs I've had. Really made me realize how outrageous the wedding industry is, though. Like seriously, it's unreal the things people spend money on, and the  _ amount  _ they spend." Renjun turns from Mark to Donghyuck, a thought popping into his head. "You should make sure Johnny knows at least fifty percent of the usual wedding stuff is a scam. Seriously, he should save his money."

Donghyuck's face does something funny, then. It happens fast enough that Renjun doesn't have time to parse it, but he sees that it happens. "Thanks," Donghyuck says, lips tugging into a smile. "Doyoung’s planned a lot of weddings before, so I think they're probably solid on the insides of the business, but I'll let him know just in case."

"Oh, yeah!" Renjun shakes his head, "I totally forgot that was Doyoung’s thing."

Donghyuck waves a hand dismissively. "Don't worry about it. It was a while ago."

"Right, yeah." Renjun shakes his head again. "Anyway-"

"Johnny's getting married?" Jaemin cuts in.

"Yeah!" Donghyuck nods, brightening as he fills Jaemin in.

Renjun, though he's loath to look away from Donghyuck when he looks so vibrant and alive, forces himself to turn to the side so he's not just  _ staring _ . Turning, however, lands his eyes right on Mark, who he finds is already watching him, a strange look on his face. As soon as Mark sees that he's been caught, he schools his face into something more neutral. Renjun isn't sure what to make of it.

Some of the anxiety he'd been holding onto earlier creeps up on him once more, and he’s quick to look down at his food so he doesn't have to meet Mark's eyes any longer. He takes a large bite, and chases it with a sip of his lemonade. The look on Mark's face hadn't seemed bad, but it had been  _ something _ . Mark had been looking at him and he'd been thinking something, but Renjun has no idea  _ what _ .

Before he can get too carried away by trying to figure it out, though, Jaemin is kicking his leg to get his attention again.

"What were we talking about before all this?" Jaemin asks no one in particular.

"Dunno," Mark says, "I think it's just been a free-for-all since the minute you guys got here."

"Hmm. Well I suggest a brief recess for eating," Jaemin says, "I want to eat without Renjun kicking me for talking around my food."

"You could always just swallow before you speak," Renjun points out.

Jaemin makes a noncommittal noise, ending the debate before Renjun can argue his case.

So conversation falls to the wayside as the group focuses on digging into their early dinners. Everyone still chimes in here and there, but for the most part, they sit in companionable silence and appreciate the food and drink. Donghyuck makes a passing comment about being glad he'd asked Renjun to pick their meet-up spot, and Renjun does a poor job of hiding his pleased smile behind his lemonade glass. Whatever spots of tension may have grown between the four of them fizzle out as their stomachs fill and the drink bottles empty.

Renjun moves to his water once his hard lemonade - mostly water too, by the time he finally gets to the bottom of it - but Mark and Jaemin both decide to call the waiter over to get second rounds. Donghyuck passes, although he doesn't have the excuse of being a driver like Renjun does. When Mark and Jaemin both start on their second glasses, Donghyuck raises his water to Renjun in a mock toast. Renjun shakes his head, laughing lightly, but obliges.

Conversation slowly returns to the booth as they all near the end of their dishes, and it flows easily - if a bit disjointed by the lack of filter that Jaemin and Mark both share after two drinks. The atmosphere is warm, and as they reach the end of their meal, Renjun realizes he's not ready for their night out to end before night has even really set in. 

Mark starts making noise about going to the bathroom before calling the waiter back one last time to settle the bill, and Jaemin nods along; they've fallen right back into a close comradery over their drinks, and appear thick as thieves despite the time they've spent apart.

Donghyuck is surprisingly silent throughout the exchange, so Renjun finds himself once again looking to him, trying to read the lines of his face for the words he hasn't said. Behind Donghyuck, the sun is setting over the beach, and Renjun can  _ just  _ see it out a window facing the water. In a single moment, Renjun decides he wants to see Donghyuck backlit fully by the sunset, he wants to see him all the way through dusk and into nightfall. He meets Donghyuck's eyes and some way, somehow, it feels like they're thinking the same thing. Renjun thinks,  _ hopes, _ they're on the same page.

"Do you guys want to go walk down the beach after this?" Renjun says to the group, though his eyes don't leave Donghyuck.

"Yo, dude, that's a great idea," Mark says, excitement in his voice. "I totally need to see a beach sunset before I go back home."

"I'm down," Jaemin agrees. "I actually haven't been to the beach in so long."

"Hyuck?" Mark asks when Donghyuck doesn't chime in as well.

Donghyuck blinks, tears his eyes away from Renjun to send a placating smile Mark's way. "Yeah, that sounds good. Let's keep the party going, right?"

"Right!" Mark nods eagerly. "You totally get it, man. Now I gotta get out for a sec, though, actually."

"Me too," Jaemin says, poking Renjun's side to get him to scoot out of the booth. “Bathroom break time.”

"Okay," Renjun laughs as the more inebriated half of their gang shuffle awkwardly out of their seats. "Hyuck and I will hold down the fort here while you two are gone, and then we'll go after you get back, and then we can all pay up and head out? That sound good?"

Mark nods, and Jaemin claps Renjun's shoulder a bit harder than necessary. "Peachy.”

And so he and Mark head off in search of the men's room, and Renjun settles back into his seat opposite Donghyuck. "I can't believe Mark is still such a lightweight," he says, grinning.

Donghyuck returns the grin easily, deeply endeared by Mark's inability to hold his alcohol (or maybe just by Mark himself). "Yeah, he's hopeless. If we weren't going outside where there's wind and the ocean to distract him and sober him up, he'd probably start getting way too sappy for like eight o'clock on a Saturday. The beach was a great call." Donghyuck's voice shifts from teasing to something softer when he says this.

Renjun's grin softens along with Donghyuck's voice. "Thanks. Figured if we were all having a good time there was no reason to go home yet."

"Always smart, Junnie," Donghyuck says. A warm feeling spreads through Renjun's stomach at the nickname, at Donghyuck's gentle tone.

"I have my moments, I guess," Renjun shrugs. He's used to a bit of teasing seeping into Donghyuck's voice even during praises, feels almost caught off guard by how genuine Donghyuck’s words sound.

"You saved a bunch of them up in college, right?" Donghyuck asks, an eyebrow twitching up so Renjun knows there's a joke coming after all. "Used up a whole load of dummy cards then so you'd be all stocked up with good idea ones for later.”

Renjun huffs out a laugh, and they've returned to territory so familiar he barely bats an eye. "Yeah, back in college when we were together all the time it was a lot easier to come up with bad ideas."

"I'm honored," Donghyuck says without missing a beat.

"You should be. We made a great team."

"We did," Donghyuck nods. This time he doesn't offer a punchy retort, just lets the statement drift off and hang between them. He meets Renjun's eyes, and the contact feels charged. The easy banter fades and Renjun finds himself once again standing at the edge of a precipice- familiar territory behind him, something new waiting for him if he steps off the cliff. "I think we still do," Donghyuck says lowly.

Renjun swallows. He realizes Donghyuck is standing right next to him on the precipice, realizes they're connected one way or another; if one of them falls, the other will too.  _ Is Donghyuck ready to fall? Is Renjun? _

"Yeah," Renjun says, the admission coming slowly, "I think you're right."

Donghyuck's brows raise just a centimeter, and his lips part like he's sucking in a breath. All of a sudden, Renjun's palms feel sweaty, his stomach swoops like it does just before the first drop on a rollercoaster. Donghyuck's mouth opens wider like he's about to say something, but before he can get a word out, Mark's voice cuts through the fragile silence, shattering whatever had been building in the air between them.

" _ Donghyuck _ ," Mark says, drawing out his name, too long and too loud. "It's your turn, man."

Renjun turns sharply to look at Mark, striding towards them with purpose, absolutely oblivious to the fact that he's interrupted anything.

"I thought we were buddy system-ing this?" Donghyuck says.

Mark shrugs. "More efficient this way."

Donghyuck narrows his eyes at Mark, but when Mark reaches their table and slides in right next to Renjun, trapping him inside the booth, the fight seems to leave Donghyuck's frame. "All right," he sighs. With that, he stands and heads towards the bathroom, leaving Renjun alone with a Mark who no longer seems to understand the concept of personal space.

"Hey, bud, you know this is a pretty big booth, right?" Renjun says, scooting as close to the wall as he can.

Mark just shrugs again. It would be funny how easily alcohol strips Mark of his usual social etiquette, if Renjun wasn’t the one at the receiving end of his attention now. He twists so his whole body is facing Renjun, and fixes him with an intent look. "You and Hyuckie are friends," he says, not quite a question, but not quite a statement either.

Renjun blinks at him. "Yeah?"

"He talks a lot about you."

"Oh." Renjun swallows, a new kind of nerves settling in. 

"Jaemin said you talk a lot about him, too."

"Rat," Renjun hisses.

Mark gives his shoulder a light punch. "It's good.” He lets out a little laugh - though Renjun isn’t sure what’s amusing him - and then his face shifts into a more serious expression (it seems to be quite difficult for him to maintain). “You guys match,” Mark says.

Renjun nods, a bit uncertain what kind of response Mark is looking for.

“It’s good,” Mark repeats. “He was so excited to see you again, he hung up the phone on me. It was  _ so  _ uncool… but I get it.” 

Renjun stares at Mark, trying to figure out what he’s saying. It hits him after a moment: that first day on the beach, Donghyuck had been talking on the phone - Renjun had recognized him by the sound of his laugh. 

Before Renjun can process what exactly this tactless version of Mark is trying to tell him, Mark plows on. "I missed you too, man," he says, leaning forward to drape an arm over Renjun's shoulders. "We should stay in better touch now."

"Yeah, for sure," Renjun says, resisting the urge to tense against Mark and just letting himself appreciate the gesture. It's not often that Mark offers affection so freely, and it's been a long time since Renjun had last gotten to experience one of Mark's tipsy half-hugs. "Do you still have the same number?"

Mark nods, leaning against Renjun more. "I do, but just messaging is easier. No international plan needed."

"Right," Renjun nods. "Canada is a different country. It seems like a scam to charge more when it's the same land mass but I guess all corporations are a scam."

"Mhm," Mark hums, clearly only half listening.

Renjun laughs through his nose and slumps against the back of the booth. Mark doesn't say anything more, so they sit in silence until Jaemin finally returns to the table, Donghyuck on his heels.

"Oh man, did we miss a moment?" Jaemin asks, and it sounds like he's trying to be cheeky, but he's a bit too buzzed for the tone to come out right.

In lieu of answering, Renjun ducks out from under Mark's arm and asks Donghyuck to entice Mark out of the booth so he can escape to the bathroom. It takes a long minute to get Mark up from his seat, but eventually Renjun is free to relieve his bladder in peace. He makes it to the bathroom and back  _ significantly  _ faster than the rest of his party, and wonders for a moment if perhaps the others had been stopping to scheme and gossip. He doesn't dwell on the thought, though, as speculation won't do him any good (he can just grill Jaemin on it later).

Returning to the group, he sits down just long enough for them to all figure out the bill and the tip. When they've paid for everything, they all file out of the booth and towards the exit, leaving the grill behind

As soon as Renjun pushes the door open and steps out into the twilight, he feels the cool touch of wind on his face, and sighs in relief. Jaemin steps out behind him, followed by Mark, and Donghyuck brings up the rear of their group. Renjun can hear each one of them let out a similar sigh at the temperature. Though Renjun knows they'll all be a bit too cold by the time they decide to leave the beach, here and now, the air feels like a dream after the stuffiness of indoors - worsened by the flush of alcohol.

"Dude, walking on the beach was such a good  _ idea _ ," Jaemin says, drawing out the last word as he hurries forward, past Renjun, to make a break for the beach.

"Seconded," Mark says, following Jaemin's lead, punching Renjun's shoulder as he passes him.

"Are they racing?" Donghyuck asks.

Renjun squints at the two of them hurrying down towards the water, picking up speed as they go. "I think so," he laughs, glancing sideways at Donghyuck, who has drawn up beside him. "I can't believe our best friends are toddlers."

"I mean... I want to say it's just the drinks, but I don't know if I can," Donghyuck shakes his head, but his voice is as fond as Renjun's. “Looks like fun though.”

“Then you’re on,” Renjun says, and he takes off after Jaemin and Mark without waiting to see Donghyuck’s reaction. He knows what Donghyuck will do without having to look, and sure enough, he hears a playful curse hurled at his back, followed quickly by the sound of footsteps pounding after his own. 

A laugh tears from Renjun’s chest as he runs, and Donghyuck returns it like an echo. The asphalt underfoot gives way to sand, and Renjun’s balance is tested as he tries to bolt across the shifting, uneven ground without taking his eyes off the sunset ahead of him. Mark and Jaemin have reached the water’s edge, and they stand out from the glowing sky as doubled over silhouettes. 

It feels like something out of a movie, out of a dream: Renjun running across the sand with Donghyuck right on his heels, both closing the distance between them and their friends. Renjun reaches Jaemin first, skidding to a stop, sneakers buried in sand, only to have Donghyuck barrel into him from behind.

"You totally cheated with that head start!" Donghyuck says, voice loud right beside Renjun's ears. He throws his arms around Renjun's waist to keep him from escaping, and they stumble together, almost careening over into the sand as their unsteady legs try to hold the both of them up. "I would have won if you hadn't rigged the race," Donghyuck insists.

Renjun laughs, wriggling in Donghyuck's arms to try and free himself, but it's a weaker effort that he'd normally put on. There's something about being stuck in Donghyuck's arms - feeling his chest heave with labored breaths against Renjun's back, feeling his warmth bleed into Renjun where their bodies touch - that makes Renjun feel comfortable, even if Donghyuck is slandering him.

"Whatever you say," Renjun fires back, "I still won, though."

Donghyuck groans, tightens his grip on Renjun and tries to swing him around like a ragdoll. Renjun elbows him in the gut for his troubles, and all the while, Mark and Jaemin watch the two of them, laughing carelessly in the twilight breeze.

Eventually, Donghyuck decides it's easier to loosen his hold around Renjun than it is to fight to hold him even tighter, and he gets a leg up on Renjun by timing the release just right so that Renjun's momentum as he tries to break free sends him tumbling forward into Jaemin, knocking the both of them down like dominoes. Mark just barely jumps out of the way in time to dodge being taken down as well.

"That's so foul!" Renjun shouts at Donghyuck as he fists his hands in the cold sand and pushes himself back to his feet.

"Now we're even," Donghyuck says. If he were just a bit further gone, he'd probably punctuate it by sticking his tongue out.

Jaemin, still splayed out on the ground, just laughs. "Why are you guys fighting. Just look at the sky." He raises a sandy hand to gesture at the horizon, only to screw up his face in distress when sand falls from his hand into his eyes.

While Jaemin blinks furiously, wiping his hands on his shirt so he can dust the sand from his face, the rest of the group follows his instructions.

Renjun puts away thoughts of how he can get back at Donghyuck, and instead turns his head to look out over the water. The sky is lit up brilliantly: all bright reds and golds, a thin layer of purple crowning the edge of sunset where it meets the night sky. The last curve of the sun burns on the horizon, reflecting off the water. Renjun sucks in a breath. Two-drink Jaemin is surprisingly wise for how giggly he gets.

"Woah," Mark says, more than a hint of awe in his voice. "Sunset definitely doesn't look like this in Vancouver."

"Chicago either," Donghyuck adds.

Renjun just nods, words failing him. As he listens to the hum of the waves, watches them rise and fall and glimmer with color, he feels strange. It's not the hard lemonade - he knows he'd taken his time drinking it, that it had been watered down well - but something harder to pinpoint. 

It's the time he's just spent with his friends, reliving old days and talking about plans for the future. It's the feeling of being in Mark's presence after years spent apart, the relief of knowing that Mark really didn't harbor any feelings of ill-will with him. It's having Jaemin with him, the same as he always is, as constant a comfort as annoyance. It's Donghyuck standing here at his side, all their stolen glances throughout the evening. 

It's having this group of people together for the first time in so long, knowing that even the distance separating them isn't enough to keep them all apart for good.

It's a comfort, a warm kind of love blooming deep in his chest, wrapping around him. He feels impossibly content, just standing at the water's edge and watching the world turn around him.

He's not upset that Mark interrupted Donghyuck before he could speak back inside the grill. He's not worried that they missed their one chance to talk things out, to confess things they've been holding inside. Renjun feels a strange certainty as the sun sinks below the ocean waves, that he'll have more chances to tell Donghyuck how he feels, that he'll make it to where he wants to be.

A gust of wind sweeps over the beach, and Donghyuck shivers beside Renjun. Glancing sideways, Renjun can see that Donghyuck's eyes are still locked on the glowing horizon, can see the golden light spilled all over him, turning his already handsome face into something ethereal, something made entirely of sunlight. Renjun looks down, to Donghyuck's hand, fingers trembling slightly from the chill in the air.

A tentative smile spreads across Renjun's face, and he looks back out to the water. Without a word, he shifts his hand so it brushes against Donghyuck's. There's a moment of stillness, and then Donghyuck's hand brushes back, their fingers knocking together. The smile on Renjun's face grows wider as Donghyuck links their pinkies, loose enough that Renjun could pull away if he wanted. Renjun  _ does  _ shift his hand once more, but not to pull away from Donghyuck; he slips his fingers around Donghyuck's, gripping just enough to press their palms together.

Donghyuck doesn't say anything, but when Renjun sneaks another glance at his face, there's a smile there to match his own.

✨

As dusk swallows the beach, light fading from the sky and replaced by the dim glow of street lamps and storefronts farther up from the water, the air grows steadily colder. Mist from the ocean is salty and chilly where it hazes over the group, and soon the temperature has dropped too low to stand any longer.

Jaemin - who had, at some point, extricated himself from the hold of the sand - is the first to suggest they head back up towards the street.

Renjun sighs, knowing Jaemin is probably right, even if he still doesn't want the night to be over. He can feel how cold Donghyuck is, how cold  _ he  _ is, and thinks of the seat heaters waiting for him back in his car. "Wait," he says, a thought coming to him suddenly, "how did you guys get here?"

"We walked," Donghyuck says, "I thought it would be cool to show Mark around."

Renjun turns to face Donghyuck, taking in the sight of his face cast in half light, half shadow from the way the lights farther up the beach hit him. "You guys shouldn't walk all the way home this late," he says, unconsciously tightening his grip on Donghyuck's hand.

" _ Uber _ !" Mark says with far too much enthusiasm.

Renjun doesn't look away from Donghyuck. "I'll drive you guys back."

"Really?" Donghyuck says, eyes stuck on Renjun, too.

"Yeah, I have the room. Patience can seat five."

"Six, if you're determined," Donghyuck adds.

"I thought we agreed never to speak of that night again," Renjun says, lips betraying him by tugging into a grin at the memory.

"I didn't say anything," Donghyuck counters, a look of perfect innocence on his face. "You're the one who mentioned it."

Renjun scrunches his nose at Donghyuck, frustrated by the fact that he's right. Like magic, Donghyuck drops the innocent act, face softening right before Renjun's eyes. With the glow of the street washing over the left side of his face, the slope of his nose and cheekbones is highlighted, and the effect is a bit breathtaking. Renjun forces himself to breathe normally, though, forces himself not to marvel too much at the way the light dances in Donghyuck's eyes, making them appear filled with stars.

"So no uber?" Mark asks, cutting through the silence.

Donghyuck rolls his eyes and Renjun laughs, and the moment passes. They both turn to face Mark, who's now leaning against Jaemin, tugging at his ear like it fascinates him.

"I mean you can pay me if you really want to," Renjun jokes.

Mark squints at him and shakes his head. "Pass."

Renjun snorts, "That's what I thought."

"Respect the hustle," Jaemin mutters, clumsily enough that Renjun wonders if maybe he hadn't meant to say it out loud.

Donghyuck's shakes with silent laughter, and he leans in to Renjun to knock their shoulders together. "Let's get these dummies going."

Renjun nods, allowing himself one last moment of appreciating Donghyuck's hand in his before letting go so he can step forward and tug Jaemin out of Mark's grip. "Come on," he says when Jaemin fixes him with a deadly pout, "work with me here, man."

Jaemin groans, probably put-out by being manhandled away from Mark's affection, but he doesn't fight Renjun when he slings an arm around him and points them in the direction of the parking lot that's waiting for them down the beach.

"We're just gonna follow you," Donghyuck says from somewhere behind Renjun.

When he throws a glance over his shoulder, he sees Mark draped over Donghyuck's side, Donghyuck's hand secure at his waist. Renjun faces forward again, laughing through his nose. He's seen a sober Mark pick real fights with Donghyuck over his touchiness, but as soon as he gets just a little bit tipsy, Mark's walls all fall down and he not only lets Donghyuck get away with clinging to him, but encourages it. Renjun may not support drinking culture as a whole, but he has to admit that on occasion, there are real perks to downing a couple beers.

"How far away did we  _ park _ ," Jaemin whines after a whole two minutes of trudging through the sand.

"I dunno," Renjun admits, "but it wasn't that far. It didn't even take us ten minutes to get to the restaurant earlier. "

"Well I wasn't paying attention. I was babysitting you," Jaemin says.

"Uh-huh. Well now I'm babysitting  _ you." _

"Babysitting is such a weird word," Mark chimes in from behind them. "Who would sit on a baby?"

Donghyuck laughs, and it sets Jaemin off too. Their footsteps slow, as laughing makes Jaemin's already shaky balance even more precarious, and Renjun shakes his head.

By the time the parking lot comes into view, it's taken them nearly twice as long to walk the length of the beach  _ to  _ it than it had to walk  _ from  _ it - and that was  _ with  _ Renjun dragging his feet. This time around, the thing that really kills their time is  _ Jaemin  _ dragging his feet - literally, dragging them through the sand.

"Look! We made it!" Renjun says, hoping the sight of their destination will encourage Jaemin to pick up the pace a bit. As much as he still doesn't want the night to end, he's becoming increasingly aware of the wind that's picking up around them, shooting the already cool night through with a sharp chill. Renjun had started thinking about his seat heaters halfway through the trek to his car, imagining the warmth that awaits to tide himself over.

" _ Finally _ ," Jaemin shouts, and he tries to break away from Renjun's hold to race forward, but Renjun's grip is firm, and he knows that if he lets go, Jaemin will likely faceplant before he can even get to the asphalt. As funny as the sight would be, Renjun doesn't fancy the thought of all the sand that Jaemin would then carry into his car, and all the complaints he would bring along as well.

In a compromise, Renjun picks up his own pace quite a bit, accommodating Jaemin's sudden burst of energy. Donghyuck and Mark fall farther behind them, so when Renjun's feet finally hit solid ground instead of sand, he slows to a stop with the excuse of fishing out his keys, giving them a chance to catch up.

Mark makes a curious sound as he pulls up even with Renjun just in time to see him hit the button on his keys that unlocks his car. He looks across the lot to see which car lights up, and his eyes widen. "You still have Patience?"

"Why did both of you think I'd somehow have a new car?" Renjun asks, looking at Mark and then Donghyuck.

Donghyuck offers only a shrug, while Mark continues to stare across the lot at Renjun's car. "I guess I just figured everything would have changed. Like, nothing from college would  _ leave _ , you know? It would all just stay there. It feels weird seeing it out here."

Renjun considers this for a moment, before another gust of wind sweeps over them and sends him into motion again. He looks away from Mark and steps forward. "Well, I still need a car, and they're stupid fucking expensive, so as long as Patience still runs, she's the one for me."

Jaemin seems to find this sentiment amusing, because he starts giggling, throwing them off balance again. Renjun takes a deep breath, calms himself by simply counting the steps it takes to get to his car. The second they're there, he lets Jaemin go, nudging him at the door to the backseat.

"You. In," he says, leaving no room for argument.

Jaemin shoots him a displeased look - used to getting shotgun - but tugs open the door and dives into the backseat regardless.

"You, too," Donghyuck says, ducking out from under Mark's arm and pushing him into the car after Jaemin. Once he's sure Mark's hands and feet are safely tucked away inside, Donghyuck shuts the door after him.

Renjun lets out a breath of relief, now that the worst part is over. "I'm so glad you stopped at one drink," he says, turning to Donghyuck so he can see the sincerity in his eyes.

"Me too," Donghyuck admits.

Renjun raises a brow, but Donghyuck doesn't elaborate; he simply smiles. Even though he's backlit by the streetlights illuminating the parking lot, face cast mostly in shadow, Renjun can see just how the smile lights up Donghyuck's face.

Renjun feels his head spin, and wonders if maybe his one drink still has a hold over him, despite how careful he'd been to ensure that he wouldn't be too inebriated to drive back home.

The wind blows again, ruffling Donghyuck's clothes and drawing Renjun back to reality.  _ They should really be getting into the car, shouldn't they? _

"We should-" Donghyuck nods to the car.

"-Yeah," Renjun agrees. They turn away from each other to move for their respective doors. Renjun slips into the driver's seat, hits the buttons for the heaters, and twists around to ensure that his passengers are all in order as Donghyuck tugs his door shut behind himself.

"You guys buckled?" Renjun asks, peering at Mark and Jaemin, who are caught in a heated thumb-war.

"Uh..." Is all the answer he gets in response.

"I am," Donghyuck supplies helpfully, though Renjun hadn't been worried about  _ him _ remembering basic safety.

Renjun faces forward again, decides to turn on the radio to see if music will catch Mark and Jaemin's attention. One moment all he can hear is their tittering in the backseat, and the next the car is flooded by an old Jessie J song. The first chorus is just starting to play, and Renjun recognizes it right away.

"Oh, no way," he says lowly. "I used to love this song."

"Is this _ Bang Bang _ ?" Mark's voice comes from the backseat.

"Yeah," Renjun says, pleased smile on his face at having effectively distracted Mark from his game.

"Dude, I totally used to know Nicki's whole rap in this," Mark says.

This earns him a failed attempt at a low whistle from Jaemin.

"I remember that," Donghyuck laughs, "I used to make you sing this with me all the time, didn't I?"

" _ All  _ the time," Mark says.

"Renjun knows it too," Jaemin pipes up. "Even the rap."

"No way," Donghyuck breathes, eyeing Renjun with delight. "How did I not know about this?"

Renjun flushes, shrugs.

" _ Dude _ ," Mark calls from the backseat, "wanna do the rap with me?"

Before Renjun has a chance to politely decline, Jaemin is shaking the back of his seat and Donghyuck is nodding furiously. "Yes!" The two of them insist at the same time.

Later, Renjun is sure he'll blame it on the faintest traces of alcohol still running through his system, but in the moment, he knows it's simply because he can't resist the eager looks on his friends' faces. He's especially affected by the shimmer in Donghyuck's eyes as he looks at him like he's about to do something incredible instead of just stumbling through a decade old rap verse.

"Fine," Renjun caves.

The car is filled with cheering.

As the second chorus comes to a close, the noise dies down, and Renjun furrows his brows in concentration, mentally preparing for what's about to come. The verse hits, and Renjun dives into it, mouth moving faster than his brain can process. Somehow, he’s saying the right words anyway.

Barely two lines into the verse, Mark's voice turns to garbled syllables, and he gives up soon after, not clear-headed enough to string the lines together.

Renjun is determined though, and his mouth seems to remember the right words even if his brain hasn't yet caught up. Before he knows it, his momentum has carried him all the way through Nicki's verse, and he's actually managed to pull it off.

He trails off as the song carries on, stopping to catch his breath, and for a half second, it's quiet save for the music.

Then the car erupts into chaos.

" _ Dude! _ " Mark shouts at the same time Jaemin hollers-

"-That's my best fucking friend!"

Renjun blushes from his ears to his neck, but what really does him in is the awed look on Donghyuck's face as he stares openly at him.

"That was literally the coolest thing you've ever done," Donghyuck says, dead serious.

"Oh shut up," Renjun groans, embarrassment setting in alongside a fair amount of pride. _ He can't believe he really managed to get the whole thing out without messing up more than once. _

Donghyuck shakes his head. "Never. I wish I had been recording that, oh my god."

Renjun looks pointedly away from him and glares at Mark in the backseat. "You totally left me hanging, Mark. I thought you were gonna do it too."

Mark shrugs. "My brain and mouth are fighting right now. Wasn't happening."

"He stopped 'cause he realized you were gonna show him up either way," Jaemin giggles.

"Did not," Mark insists, twisting in his seat and going right back to bickering with Jaemin.

Renjun sighs, looks away from the two of them to stare out the front windshield. "This has been such a weird night."

"Mm," Donghyuck hums. "Fun, though."

"Yeah." Renjun glances at him and finds that Donghyuck's eyes are already on him. "Reminds me of college," he admits.

"Me too," Dongyuck says, something bittersweet in his voice.

"It was the best of times, it was the worst of times," Renjun says, going for a joke to lighten the mood.

Donghyuck reaches over to give his shoulder a light shove. "Nerd," he says fondly.

The song on the radio ends, and fades into a softer one, something vaguely country and early 2010s. Renjun smiles at Donghyuck. Donghyuck stops fighting a smile of his own, and for a moment, Renjun forgets they're not alone in the car, forgets everything but how nice Donghyuck looks in the lowlight, how easily he could get used to seeing Donghyuck just like this, night after night.

"Are we ever gonna leave?" Jaemin asks from the backseat. "I want waffles."

Renjun bites his lip and looks away from Donghyuck, peering into the darkness at the back of his car. "We just ate."

"Like  _ ages  _ ago," Jaemin says, "I want waffles now."

"I just want a can of whipped cream shot straight into my mouth," Mark says.

Renjun makes a face, and Jaemin slaps Mark's shoulder none too gently. "That sounds so gross," he says.

"Yeah, way too much dairy," Renjun agrees.

"No!" Jaemin shakes his head. "Well... yeah, but I meant dirty gross. Like what kind of innuendo is that?"

"Come on, bro, you know I didn't mean it like that!" Mark says, the pitch of his voice much higher than usual. The car lights don't need to be on for Renjun to know Mark is burning red- the embarrassment is clear as day in his voice.

"Whatever," Jaemin shrugs, "I still want waffles. Can we go to the diner?"

"At nine at night?" Renjun asks.

"They're open until eleven."

"Do they have whipped scream? I mean cream?" Mark asks.

"Of course!" Jaemin says.

"Can we go?" Mark echoes.

Renjun looks back to Donghyuck, trying valiantly to stifle a laugh. He fails as soon as their eyes meet and he sees Donghyuck doing exactly the same. "Late night pancakes?"

" _ Waffles _ ," Jaemin corrects, but Renjun ignores him.

Donghyuck shrugs, playing nonchalant, but his eyes are bright. "I could go for some breakfast food."

"You guys really want to go?" Renjun double checks.

"Yeah!" Mark and Jaemin chorus.

"All right. I guess we're not going home yet." Renjun's declaration is met with cheers, and he rolls his eyes even as fondness swells in his chest. Looking at Donghyuck, he asks, "Can you pull up a route to Route Nine Diner?"

"Sure thing," Donghyuck says with a grin, leaving Renjun with a faint sense of deja vu.

While Donghyuck plugs in their destination, Renjun buckles himself in, double checks that Mark and Jaemin are buckled as well, and finally starts the engine for real.

"We all good to go?" Renjun asks.

Three voices chime in confirmation, so Renjun shifts out of park, and they're on their way.

✨

The ride is uneventful for the most part, Mark and Jaemin talking to each other - or fighting quietly, Renjun isn't actually sure - in the back. Renjun keeps his focus on the road, but he can hear Donghyuck humming and singing softly along to the songs on the radio, pausing only to give Renjun directions.

As much as Renjun is reminded of their college days, he can also feel the difference in the air, can tell that time has passed. It's a strange feeling, part familiar and part melancholic. Driving past a CVS, red light shining through the darkness and illuminating the car, Renjun realizes this feeling gripping him is startlingly similar to what he'd felt while standing in Donghyuck's apartment a week earlier.

It's the realization that this is temporary, limited, fleeting.

Renjun grips the wheel tighter and tries not to think too hard about it. He can't stop time, he knows this, but he can spend it well. If this is the only night they'll spend together, he'll just have to make the most of it. He'd known this earlier, too, when he'd suggested the beach instead of a parting of ways, and the only difference now is his awareness- the name he's given to it.

So as he drives, Renjun cherishes the faint sound of Mark and Jaemin in the backseat, the sound of Donghyuck singing along to a Jonas Brother's song. Renjun stops thinking about how the night will have to end eventually, and focuses on how glad he is that it has stretched on so long already.

Before long, Donghyuck is pointing him to the last turn he has to make before reaching the lot beside the diner, and Renjun is pulling into one of the many free parking spots, killing the car engine.

"Waffle time!" Jaemin cheers.

"Do you think I can just order a bowl of whipped cream?" Mark asks.

"I doubt it," Donghyuck laughs, "but we'll get you your whipped cream somehow."

"Let's go, then!"

"You guys still have your wallets?" Renjun asks, patting his own pockets to ensure he has his own.

There's the sound of shuffling, and then two  _ yessir _ 's. Renjun looks to Donghyuck, gets a nod of confirmation from him as well. "We're good to go, then."

Jaemin whoops and throws his door open, and the rest of them follow his lead.

Renjun steps out into the night air and shivers, both from the cold and anticipation of what's to come. They walk away from his car as a group, Jaemin and Mark leading the charge now that they're steadier on their feet.

"Night keeps getting longer," Donghyuck says, falling into step with Renjun.

"It does," Renjun agrees with a smile.

"You sure we're not imposing?"

Renjun leans over to knock their shoulders together. "Not at all. I'm glad we keep making new plans. I've missed this."

"Me too," Donghyuck says. He knocks back into Renjun, then points ahead. "Clearly they've missed it too."

"Oh yeah," Renjun laughs at the sight of Mark and Jaemin once again racing each other to their destination. "Definitely."

"I'm glad you guys agreed to come out with Mark and me, it would have been so boring with just him."

"You're full of it," Renjun says. "You guys totally have fun together. Remember the laundromat incident?"

"God, I wish I could  _ forget _ that."

Renjun gives Donghyuck a pointed look, holding it until he caves.

"Fine," Donghyuck says, "I guess Mark isn't totally boring. But still, I'm glad you guys came; it's a different kind of fun when we're all together."

"Yeah, I know what you mean." He offers Donghyuck a smile as they pass under one of the parking lot lights, and are temporarily bathed in gold. "I'm glad you invited us."

Donghyuck looks away from their friends, meets Renjun's eyes. It doesn't matter how many times he does- the feeling still leaves Renjun breathless. "'Course," Donghyuck says, "Mark really wanted to see you both again."

"Mhm," Renjun nods, looking back to the lot so he doesn't trip over his own feet. "Just Mark."

Donghyuck swats his shoulder, but there's a light laugh bubbling out of him. "Maybe I wanted to see you guys too."

"Hey! Y'all are slow as shit!" Jaemin shouts from the diner door. He and Mark are standing there, waiting. Renjun is impressed that they didn't just barrel inside on their own.

"Coming!" Donghyuck calls, picking up his pace a bit.

Renjun hurries too, matching Donghyuck's steps even though his legs are shorter.

"Patience sure isn't his strong suit, huh?" Donghyuck says, voice quieter, just for Renjun to hear.

"I dunno, he  _ is  _ waiting for us. That has to count for something at least."

"Probably ‘cause of Mark," Donghyuck posits. "He's big on manners.  _ Most  _ of the time."

"Oh, that's probably part of it, yeah," Renjun laughs.

"Best not keep them waiting too much longer then," Donghyuck says. His steps grow quicker still, and Renjun sighs, but keeps pace.

In no time, they've reached the door, and Jaemin is pushing it open and leading them all inside. He makes a beeline for a table right under a window overlooking the parking lot, and lays claim on the seat he wants. Mark sits down next to him, so Renjun and Donghyuck take the two seats opposite them.

A tired looking waitress comes to their table after a minute, takes their orders, and vanishes past a counter and into a back room as quickly as she had come. There aren't many other customers, so the sound of the kitchen rings through the diner while the door is open, fading away as it falls shut behind her.

"Do you think I made her day worse by asking about a whipped cream special?" Mark asks, looking downcast across from Renjun.

"I'm sure if you tip her well, she'll forgive you," Renjun says, reaching forward to pat Mark's arm.

Mark seems to brighten at this prospect. "I'll do that."

"Cool. Service workers are underpaid as fuck."

"Hear hear," Donghyuck says, raising a sugar shaker as if in toast.

"America sucks," Mark sighs.

"Hear hear," Jaemin copies Donghyuck.

"I'm pretty sure it's not just a local issue," Renjun says, "but yeah, America is garbage."

"At least this is a pretty good area, right?" Donghyuck asks.

"True,” Renjun agrees. “One of my coworkers lived in Florida before she moved here and she tells literal horror stories about it there sometimes."

"Yikes," Mark says, eyes wide.

"Yeah."

Before they can get too carried away on the topic of best and worst places on the map, their waitress returns. She brings them waters, followed by Jaemin's order of waffles, a truly impressive pile of whipped cream atop it, an empty plate for Mark to scoop the whipped cream onto, and one order of pancakes, which Renjun and Donghyuck decided to share. She retreats without any fanfare, and then it's just the four of them again.

The diner is quiet, lit by dim artificial lights, and it creates an atmosphere that makes everything feel just slightly surreal. Although the whole night has felt like a trip through the inside of a time capsule, this final stop is the icing on the cake. Renjun can't help thinking about the past, about the last time the four of them had all been together eating eggs and french toast in a diner just like this one, promising they would never drift so far apart that they'd never be able to come back to each other.

That had been before Mark graduated, before Donghyuck left for Europe. That had been one of their last days together. Renjun remembers it in shades of pink and gold. He's suddenly overwhelmingly grateful for Jaemin's cravings for leading them here.

"Hey," Donghyuck says softly, nudging Renjun's side. "You're spacing out. What're you thinking about?"

"Casey's" Renjun admits.

"Our old diner?"

"Yeah."

"You miss it?" Donghyuck asks.

Renjun glances at him, and finds a careful, understanding look on his face. “I do,” he says.

“Me too,” Donghyuck says. He slides the plate of pancakes closer to Renjun. “The food here isn’t bad, though.” They both know it isn’t the food Renjun misses, but there’s something about the tone of Donghyuck’s voice as he says it that makes Renjun think Donghyuck isn’t really talking about the food either. 

Despite this, Renjun accepts the silent offer, and digs into the pancakes still left on the plate. Donghyuck is right, the food is good. Renjun sends him a grateful smile, and knows that no matter how good the food, the company is better. 

Across the table, Mark is scooping spoonfuls of whipped cream into his mouth while Jaemin scarfs down his waffles. Renjun smiles at the both of them as well, too sentimental for his own good. Mark is distracted by his quickly depleting supply of whipped cream, but Jaemin notices. He sends Renjun a syrupy smile back, and goes right back to eating. Renjun laughs through his nose, turning to his food again as well.

Time passes quickly within the diner’s walls, and before Renjun knows it, Mark has scraped his plate clean, Jaemin has put away every last bite of his waffles, and the pancakes on his own plate have disappeared - a joint effort with Donghyuck.

“I am so faded right now,” Mark says, pushing his dishes into the center of their table.

“Doesn’t that mean you’re high?” Renjun asks.

“Does it?” Mark seems startled by this.

“It totally does,” Jaemin says.

“Damn, I hope people back home don’t think I’m a stoner.”

“You do kind of have stoner vibes,” Donghyuck says.

“Either class president or secret bathroom stoner,” Jaemin says.

Mark makes a face, clearly displeased by the takes. “Well I’m not either of those.”

“Wait, I’ve got one,” Donghyuck cuts in again. “You have elementary school line leader vibes, but you could totally also have been one of the kids at the very back who shoved people out to get them in trouble.”

“That’s  _ worse _ , somehow,” Mark groans.

“He’s not wrong, though,” Renjun says. “And you didn’t deny either of those.”

“I did  _ not  _ push other kids out of line in elementary school,” Mark insists. 

“But you  _ were  _ a line leader?” Jaemin asks.

Mark goes very quiet. He crosses his arms over his chest. “I plead the fifth.”

“Ha! Got him,” Jaemin cheers. 

“Teamwork,” Renjun says with a smile. 

“Fuck yeah.” Jaemin reaches across the table for a high five from both Renjun and Donghyuck.

“I think I’m ready to head out,” Mark says, “unless you guys want to keep bullying me.”

“It’s just teasing and you know it, you big baby,” Donghyuck says. “It comes from a place of love.”

“Uh-huh.” Mark remains unconvinced. 

“This is the gen-z way, man,” Jaemin says.

“I’m literally a gen-z kid too,” Mark protests.

“It’s because you’re from a different century,” Donghyuck says. “The two-thousands were a cultural reset, clearly.”

“A bad one,” Mark mutters, but his cheeks twitch like he’s fighting back a grin.

Donghyuck sees the crack in Mark’s armor and seems satisfied that he’s won this round of sparring, so he ends it by waving their waitress over so they can pay for their food and leave. Mark remembers his promise to tip especially well, and seems relieved by the small smile he gets from the waitress before she vanishes into the back again. They leave without fanfare.

✨

By the time they all pile back into Renjun’s car and start it back up, the radio clock reads half past ten. They’ve been together for hours, but it feels like it’s been even longer. Renjun feels like he’s re-lived two years of memories as well as making new ones. There’s still the slightest itch inside of him that wants to do more before heading home, before saying goodbye again for who knows how long, but the strength of it has diminished exponentially since leaving the grill. He knows the night can only last so long.

“Can you-” he starts to ask Donghyuck, only to find when he faces him that Donghyuck has already pulled up the maps app on his phone and inputted his address. “Oh, thanks.”

“No problem,” Donghyuck says. As Renjun drives out of the parking lot, Donghyuck starts the radio, and turns back to Mark and Jaemin to say, “If you know a song that comes on, you’re legally required to sing along.”

“Sure thing, champ,” Jaemin says, “I hope you know what you’re signing up for, though.”

“He does,” Mark says with a tired laugh. “He definitely does.”

“As long as no one goes too crazy, I have no objections,” Renjun says.

Renjun can hear the smile in Donghyuck's voice when he says, "Perfect."

And so the drive back to Donghyuck's apartment is passed in bright voices, vibrant songs. On empty streets, Renjun finds himself humming along, but for the most part, he's content to simply listen to his friends' voices overlapping with the radio. The throwback station has never felt more appropriate to Renjun than right then and there, as he gets to make new memories with old friends, set to the same songs they'd all heard played and overplayed as they grew up.

All too soon, though, Renjun recognizes the streets he's turning onto, and knows the curtain is about to close on their four man show. As if someone far away in a radio booth knows just what's happening in Renjun's tiny car, the radio fades from pop-y Taylor Swift to a song from Renjun's teen years, five voices mingling to sing about how quickly the world changes, how fast the night slips away.

"Isn't it too early to be playing sad songs," Jaemin asks, sounding dejected for the first time all evening.

"This isn't a sad song, though," Mark says.

"Isn't it? It's all about how easy it is to lose what you used to have as you get older. They literally talk about your dreams disappearing when you finally wake up."

"The point of the song is that even  _ when  _ things slip away, you still have yourself, and the people you keep close. It's like...  _ things  _ change, but love doesn't, not really, anyway."

"You sure are an English major," Donghyuck says, at the same times Jaemin says-

"Shut the fuck up, Mark, you're gonna make me cry."

"Yeah," Renjun croaks, pulling to a stop on the curb outside Donghyuck's building. "Not cool, Mark."

"What?" Mark whines, "I thought it was a nice sentiment."

"It  _ is _ ," Renjun says, trying to swallow down the emotion rising in his chest.

"Yeah, I think that's the problem," Donghyuck explains.

"What's wrong with nice sentiments?" Mark's confusion seems genuine. "I thought the night called for some."

"Think less," Jaemin says, "I  _ will  _ break down if you say any more sappy shit."

"So I can't tell you guys that I love you?" Mark asks.

Renjun twists around to the backseat just in time to see Jaemin smack Mark's shoulder. "That's exactly what it means!"

"So I can't say that I had a great time and I've missed you guys? Or that I hope we stay in touch and can do this again some time? That I appreciate your friendship more than you know?"

"Fuck you, Mark," Renjun says, blinking furiously.

"You're the worst," Jaemin sniffs. He punches Mark's arm, then unbuckles himself and dives at Mark, wrapping him in a tight hug.

"This was a mistake," Mark wheezes, but Jaemin just hugs him tighter.

"You got your words of affirmation; now we're doing it my way," Jaemin says, voice muffled.

Renjun lets out a watery laugh watching the two of them, and shakes his head like that will clear the sad fog that has started to fill it. He unbuckles himself, twists the keys so the car idles. Jaemin is still squeezing the life out of Mark when Renjun hears another buckle click open, and his eyes drift to the source of the sound of their own accord.

Donghyuck is still in his seat, but he's shifted so he's got a leg tucked under himself, turned so he's facing Renjun. There's a look on his face that makes Renjun's stomach clench and heart kick. The lines of Donghyuck's face are impossibly soft, his expression open, eyes filled with something Renjun can't quite put his finger on. Every inch of Renjun's body aches to be in Donghyuck's arms right then, to hold him close and not let him go again.

The beauty of this night may be ephemeral, but Renjun decides that his time with Donghyuck doesn't have to be. He knows then, with startling certainty, that he won't let his love for Donghyuck just be like a sunset that fades out of reach when night comes. It makes sense, he thinks, because he's never been one for poetry about endings, about how nothing gold can stay. Renjun prefers prose about how the stars are always in the sky, even when you can't see them, about how flowers grow back each spring without fail, even after winter freezes the ground solid. If art imitates life, he wants art like that - art about hope - to be the imitation of his own life.

But then Mark is saying, "I hate this. I regret my decisions," and Jaemin is laughing, and it makes Donghyuck laugh too, and then Renjun can’t help joining in as well. 

They all spill out of the car, and Jaemin releases his hold on Mark just to shove him into Renjun’s arms, and go after Donghyuck instead. Mark grumbles, but he’s clearly fighting a smile as Renjun hugs him. Maybe it’s because Renjun doesn’t squeeze so damn tight like Jaemin does, or because it’s been so long and they’ve missed each other more than they let even themselves know, but Mark returns Renjun’s hug instead of trying to keep the affection at a distance or simply enduring it. 

“I feel like I’m gonna be seeing a lot more of you, now,” Mark mumbles somewhere near Renjun’s ear.

Renjun lets out a light laugh, hoping it doesn’t sound as watery as the last one. “I hope so,” he says. He squeezes Mark’s middle once before pulling back.

Mark stays at arm’s length, glancing over to Donghyuck and Jaemin, who are swinging around in circles. “I’m glad we all found each other again,” Mark says. “You and Donghyuck especially.”

Renjun follows Mark’s gaze and watches Donghyuck giggle as Jaemin tries to trip him without loosening his grip around his shoulders. “Yeah,” he breathes, “me too.”

When he looks back to Mark, he’s met with a smile so knowing it makes him flush. Mark doesn’t say anything, but his face does all the talking for him. Renjun resists the urge to tell him to shut up again, knowing it’ll only dig him deeper into the hole he’s fallen into. 

Donghyuck and Jaemin finally separate, both stumbling a bit, dizzy from whatever the hell they were doing, and gravitating back to their friends’ sides.

“Thanks for coming out tonight,” Mark says, to Renjun and Jaemin both. “I really had fun.”

“Thanks for inviting us,” Jaemin says, punching Mark’s shoulder gently. “And for all that stuff you said, you know, before.”

“I thought you hated that,” Mark jokes.

“Because you sprung it on us with zero warning!” Jaemin insists. “You’ve gotta let a guy know before you start hitting him right where it hurts.”

“Right,” Mark says, eyes shining. “Sorry.”

Jaemin sniffs. “I’ll forgive you, I guess.”

“Thanks,” Mark laughs. “I would have been heartbroken otherwise.”

Jaemin threatens to hug Mark again, but Renjun is brought away from the commotion by Donghyuck’s hand on his wrist, tugging him just off to the side. 

“Figured we might not want to be too close in case limbs start swinging,” Donghyuck explains. “Jaemin fights dirty when he hugs.”

“I’m really,  _ very  _ aware,” Renjun says.

Donghyuck smiles, not at all surprised by the revelation. The curve of his lips softens, then, when he asks, “I’ll see you again soon, yeah?”

Renjun feels a smile stretch across his face in a mirror of Donghyuck’s, an urge he can’t (and doesn’t want to) fight. “Yeah,” he says, “for sure.” For a moment, he hesitates, before adding, “Before that, though, I can send you some cool places you can go with Mark this week, if you want. If you play your cards right, you guys can get banned from a Cali bowling alley while he’s here, and then you’ll only have forty-five states left to go.”

Donghyuck shakes his head, but he’s practically beaming. “Please do.”

“I’ll add it to my to-do list,” Renjun says seriously.

“Thanks,” Donghyuck says, and then he pulls Renjun closer and wraps him up in a hug. It’s loose, but Donghyuck is warm and nothing but soft curves against Renjun’s body. His hug with Mark had been filled with a sense of finality, sealed with the knowledge that it might be their last for a long while. This one though, doesn’t have quite the same bittersweet undercurrent. Donghyuck hugs Renjun like he knows he’ll be able to again soon, like he knows that even when he lets go, Renjun will come back to him. 

Maybe that’s why when Renjun does slip free from the embrace, he feels lighter, feels like he really can say goodbye to Donghyuck and Mark on the sidewalk and then get in his car and drive away from them. He knows they’ll make their way back to each other, sooner or later, one way or another. 

When he and Jaemin do wave goodbye, and watch Donghyuck and Mark retreat into the warmth of Donghyuck’s building together, he hums the tune of the last song that had played on the radio. When he slides back into his seat and starts the car again, Jaemin is there sitting shotgun, humming along as well. 

_ There’s nothing to be afraid of, even when the night changes _ .

✨

At approximately six o’clock at night on the following Friday, Renjun has been home alone for three hours after school had officially let out for spring break, and he sends Donghyuck an eloquent text message:  _ Help!  _

Sixty seconds later Donghyuck responds:  _ are you ok!!? _

Renjun, slumped over the table in despair, writes back:  _ I almost burned down my whole building. _

_ Was there a spider?  _ Donghyuck’s reply asks.

Honestly, a spider might have been preferable to the mess Renjun had made in the kitchen.  _ I tried to bake macarons _ , he answers.

Donghyuck’s next message is filled with emojis, all laughing. Renjun groans, but then:  _ that’s very ambitious of you- what’s the occasion? _

Renjun sighs, and the sound is loud in the silence of the apartment. Jeno and Jaemin are both out, and it’s the only reason Renjun had decided to try his hand in the kitchen in the first place. Now the whole ordeal seems like too much to take on alone.  _ I’m trying to learn how to make them for Jeno’s birthday, but it’s just a disaster, _ he writes.

_ Aw~ that’s because you don’t know what you’re doing _ , Donghyuck writes back, barely softening the blow with a smiling emoticon at the end. 

_ You don’t have to tell me _ , Renjun responds, along with a dramatic string of crying emojis.

Renjun’s message is marked  _ read  _ right away, but it takes Donghyuck a minute or two to say anything back.  _ Would some help make it any easier? _

Renjun blinks at his phone screen.  _ Depends on what kind of help _ , he writes.

He can almost hear the laugh in Donghyuck’s response:  _ I do think I know a guy who went to culinary school and has picked up a thing or two about baking in his time.  _

_ Oh? I think maybe that guy could really help me if he’s willing _ , Renjun replies.

_ Do you think his kitchen with all his baking supplies might help too?  _ Donghyuck asks.

Suddenly Renjun is grateful again that no one else is home, because it means no one is there to see the embarrassing smile that stretches across his face as he writes:  _ I hope so… I wonder if I could get this guy on the line and ask what time works for him _ .

_ I’m free all weekend _ , Donghyuck replies.  _ You can come over whenever. _

This is how Renjun finds himself knocking on Donghyuck’s door for the first time, a little over an hour (and one incredibly thorough scrub-down of his kitchen to remove all evidence of his failed baking attempts) later.

Donghyuck opens up the door and greets Renjun with a grin. "No scorch marks, that's good," he says, stepping back to make room for Renjun to walk in.

Renjun finds himself smiling in spite of the teasing- it feels so familiar, it puts him at ease. This is how he and Donghyuck were, how they  _ are _ . It feels right, and he knows that sooner or later he'll find a way to yank Donghyuck's chain right back. "Yeah," he says as the Donghyuck shuts the door behind him. "Unfortunately for all the tests I have to grade, I'm still all in one piece."

"One man's misery is another man's fortune," Donghyuck says with a wink.

Renjun looks down to his feet so Donghyuck can't see him splutter, or worse,  _ blush  _ at such a bad line. He kicks his shoes off and keeps his head down as he steers around Donghyuck to drop his sneakers on the shoe stand. "I hope you were serious when you said I didn't need to bring anything," he says to reroute the conversation, "because I literally brought nothing."

"I can see that," Donghyuck says, and Renjun, because he can  _ hear  _ the smile in Donghyuck's voice and is all too weak to it, looks up again to see Donghyuck's eyes crinkled in amusement. "And don't worry; I really did mean it. I have a truly outrageous stash of baking supplies here, so what's the point in not using them?"

Renjun nods his head, the logic solid enough. "Well, thanks. I really appreciate it. That and the fact that you're willing to help."

Donghyuck shrugs like it's no big deal, but there's a pleased gleam in his eyes. He nods towards the kitchen, and Renjun follows him when he walks towards it. "It's not a problem," Donghyuck says, "I like baking and I like you, so, you know... easy." He shrugs again, and Renjun can't help but wonder if it had been a purposeful decision- Donghyuck waiting to say that until his back was to Renjun.

Renjun is about to open his mouth and say something - honestly he doesn't know what, but he thinks the words will just  _ come  _ if he lets them - but Donghyuck hurries on, and doesn't leave him the chance.

"Why don't you wash up while I get the rest of the stuff out?" Donghyuck suggests. “I was just starting to get ready before you got here.”

It's easy to agree to, and so two minutes later, Renjun's hands smell like lemon soap and Donghyuck's counter is crowded with almost everything they'll need for the macarons.

It's fairly easy after that, to listen to Donghyuck's instructions and follow his guidance as they move around the kitchen together. Donghyuck plays soft music from his phone and it fills the apartment with a warm ambiance, pairing well with the sound of shuffling bags, sliding bowls and measuring cups across the counter, and the whir of the oven as it heats. Renjun still struggles a bit with everything, but it's so much better than the first time around when he was reading a recipe guide on his phone  _ and  _ watching a youtube video to try and figure it all out.

With Donghyuck, he's just having fun.

"What made you want to try these bad boys right out of the gate for Jeno?" Donghyuck asks after Renjun has finished measuring out all the dry ingredients into Donghyuck’s food processor. “It seems like a really bold first attempt.”

"He got me this Chinese snack box for my birthday, so I was thinking of a way to get him something in the same vein, since food seems to be kind of a universal safe gift, you know?"

Donghyuck hums.

"Anyway, he's generally kind of a health guy when it comes to food, but I guess maracons are one of his cheat foods because he goes crazy over them, so I figured it would nice to try and make some since they're stupid expensive to buy. Also I kind of wanted to just see if I  _ could _ , but that was probably a mystery I didn't need solved."

Donghyuck laughs, warm and bright. It makes Renjun want to laugh too. It always does.

"It's sweet that you tried," Donghyuck says.

"Eh,” Renjun shakes his head. “Really, it was just a disaster. With you helping me though, maybe I'll actually get the hang of it.  _ That  _ would be sweet."

Donghyuck glances sideways across the counter and meets Renjun's eyes for no reason other than to make sure Renjun knows he’s smiling. “I’ll do my best,” Donghyuck promises. He looks back to his work, turning on the processor before Renjun can thank him again.

The processor runs loud, and when Donghyuck finally shuts it off, the silence that follows is comfortable, but Renjun can’t help blurting out the thought that had popped into his head while the ingredients had been mixing. “How do you not get tired of it?”

Donghyuck looks up. “Tired of what?”

“Being in the kitchen all the time. It’s already your job, and then you come home and just keep going. How does it not get old?”

Donghyuck pauses to consider the question. He catches his lower lip between his teeth and Renjun tries very hard not to stare. Donghyuck’s brows furrow, and he starts to speak slowly, each word thought out. “If you painted a hundred pictures, would all of them be the same?”

Renjun blinks. “Well, maybe some of them would be similar if I repeated themes or kinds of subjects - which I guess you kind of have to at a certain point - but they definitely wouldn’t all be exactly the same. I don’t even think that’s possible.”

“Doesn’t that keep it fun? Interesting? That you could paint a hundred or a thousand pictures and none of them would be exactly the same? And knowing that no one else could ever paint exactly the same picture as you?”

Renjun nods. 

“I know it’s not a perfect metaphor, but I guess it’s kind of like that,” Donghyuck says. “Because I love making food, I always find a way to enjoy it. Even if it gets monotonous sometimes because it’s  _ technically  _ all the same on the surface, the variation and the knowing that you can never  _ truly  _ make the same thing twice helps me remember that everything is special no matter how much I make it, because I can only make  _ that  _ specific thing once.” Donghyuck lets out a light laugh. “Besides, even if cooking or baking  _ was  _ a drag, since I don’t usually make food for just myself, it’s worth it. It’s like… sharing food is a love language.”

Renjun thinks about the cookies Donghyuck had shared with him, about the cake he'd baked for his birthday. "That's really nice," he says, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "I think technically that falls under acts of service, but it's a really nice way of putting it."

Donghyuck sighs, but there's a familiar playful glint in his eyes. "I'm trying to be  _ poetic _ , Renjun. Can't you let me have this?"

Renjun bites back a laugh. "Technicalities, Donghyuck. They're important."

Donghyuck rolls his eyes and nudges Renjun with his elbow. "The technicalities are dumb, because  _ technically  _ acts of service isn't even my top love language. Now come over here and sift this."

"Well I know that," Renjun says, and when he doesn't follow Donghyuck's instructions fast enough, Donghyuck reaches for him again, wraps a hand around his shoulder and drags him right up to his side. As Donghyuck pulls, Renjun says, "Your top one is touch." At the last word, he becomes impossibly aware of Donghyuck's arm, still wrapped around him, lingering longer than necessary.

It seems Donghyuck has the same realization, because he turns his head away and coughs a little, retracting his arm and clasping his hands together behind his back. "Yeah, it is." His voice has a note of awkwardness to it, and he skips on so there's no opportunity for Renjun to point it out. "Now the sifting. Do you want lumpy macarons or what?"

"Right. Definitely not," Renjun says, turning his focus to the pouring the flour mixture safely from the food processor into the bowl that Donghyuck has already laid a sifter over. He manages to get it all into the sifter without an explosion of powder clouding the air, and counts it as a win.

Renjun starts to sift, and Donghyuck steps away to lift the food processor from the counter, moving it away to dismantle and clean it so it can be put back where it belongs and remove some of the impressive clutter from the kitchen. The distance and distraction lets Renjun breathe and will away any heat that may have risen to his cheeks.

Donghyuck finishes with the processor sooner than Renjun expects, and he walks right back up to the counter where Renjun is working. He's close enough to be distracting, but not close enough to touch. It's a bit torturous.

Hyper aware of Donghyuck's eyes on him, Renjun's grip on the sifter tightens, and he drops a hand to clutch the edge of the bowl so his fingers don't embarrass him by doing something like  _ shaking _ . "Am I doing this right?"

Donghyuck steps that last bit closer and his side presses against Renjun's. He leans in a bit, squinting over Renjun's shoulder to get a good look at the sifting underway. "You want to have a gentler hand," Donghyuck says.

"I feel like I should be holding it really tight, though," Renjun says, hoping his voice doesn't sound as strained as it feels.

Donghyuck shakes his head. "Here, I'll show you."

And he does, but instead of taking the task out of Renjun's hands to demonstrate, he snakes one of his arms around Renjun's waist and takes  _ Renjun's hand _ , palm warm where it lays over Renjun's near white-knuckled grip on the bowl. Before Renjun can splutter out his surprise, Donghyuck takes his other hand too, holding gently onto both Renjun and the handle of the sifter.

"You can loosen up on the sifter," he says, lips much too close to Renjun's ear. Renjun fights the urge to shiver and tries to follow Donghyuck's lead, loosening his grip. It feels like snow softening under the insistent warmth of the sun. "And let the bowl go." Donghyuck eases Renjun's left hand up to the outer ring of the sifter, his thumb pressed into Renjun's palm to keep their hands together.

As much as Renjun had tensed at first under the sudden feeling of Donghyuck pressed up against him, there's just something about it that he can't fight. It feels  _ good  _ to be so close to him that Renjun finds his muscles relaxing, can only just stop himself from leaning back into Donghyuck because it would be a touch mortifying, and would probably derail the Baking Macarons 101 lesson Donghyuck is trying to teach him.

"There you go!" Donghyuck says, clearly pleased by the way the tension drains from Renjun's body. "So you can just hold the sifter like this, and then tap the edge here-" he guides Renjun's hands as he speaks "-and then you can sift without spilling too much, and it won't take forever to get done. It's best if you sift more than once, so you don't want to get totally tired out on the first round."

"Right," Renjun breathes, doing his best to pour all his focus into the one task before him. Hold the sifter with a light hand so it has a little give. (Don't think about how soft Donghyuck's skin is.) Pat the edge of the sifter to agitate the flour out of it. (Don't think about how warm Donghyuck's hands are.) Eyes on the prize and nothing else. (Don't think about how close Donghyuck is.)

“Yeah, you’re getting it,” Donghyuck says, and this time his voice also sounds strained, close enough to breathy for Renjun to take note. 

Something in Renjun’s chest jumps at the thought that Donghyuck is just as affected by this as he is. It feels an awful lot like hope, like an inkling of certainty growing stronger. He starts to think that maybe leaning back into Donghyuck’s hold wouldn’t be the end of the world, when a loud click cuts through the thick air in the kitchen.

Before Renjun has the chance to fully process what the sound is, the front door of Donghyuck’s apartment is swinging open, two figures bursting in. Renjun and Donghyuck spring apart like they’ve been scalded, and their heads whip towards the threshold in tandem. 

Standing there, now frozen and staring wide-eyed at the both of them, are two people Renjun  _ knows _ . 

_ “Chenle _ ?” Renjun says incredulously at the same time Chenle says-

“ _ Renjun _ ?”

Donghyuck and Jisung both blink twice before their brows furrow in confusion. “You two know each other?” They ask together.

Renjun nods, still staring at Chenle. He has purple hair now, like he’d mentioned he wanted to try the last time they’d seen each other, and he’s standing impressively close to Jisung, whose hair is no longer plain brown, but bright blue. They’re quite the sight to take in, and Renjun  _ almost  _ forgets to be embarrassed about the way they’d found him and Donghyuck, but as the surprise fades from Chenle’s eyes, they turn cheeky, and Renjun’s panic rushes back to him.

“Wow!” Renjun blurts before Chenle has a chance to open his mouth. “I didn’t realize you were Jisung’s Chenle! I guess I should have figured since it’s not exactly a common name here, but still! What are the odds?”

While Jisung flushes at Renjun’s comment, Chenle just looks pleased, the mischief lingering in his eyes. “Small world, I guess,” he says.

“How do you guys know each other?” Donghyuck asks.

Renjun starts to say  _ from my school _ , but Chenle answers before he can.

“We’re Chinese,” Chenle says, and then presses his lips together to suppress a grin.

Jisung turns to Chenle, confused, and Donghyuck stares blankly at him. “What?”

Chenle shrugs, offering no other explanation, so two pairs of curious eyes land on Renjun. He decides to follow Chenle’s lead though, and shrugs too.

“Is it like how all gay people know each other?” Donghyuck asks. “Like you just flock together?”

Chenle remains silent, cheeky grin taking root on his face.

“Fine. Keep your secrets,” Donghyuck says, “I’ll keep my food to myself when you come over.”

Chenle laughs and raises his hands in surrender. “Nah, you got it,” he admits, “I guess that's pretty much how it is.”

“The food threat always gets them,” Donghyuck says in a stage-whisper to Renjun.

Renjun bites back a laugh as Chenle and Jisung both roll their eyes at this.

“Well,” Jisung says, “we were just heading to my room.” He toes off his sneakers and gives Chenle’s sleeve a little tug. 

“Right,” Chenle says, kicking his shoes off in the general direction of the shoe stand. “We’ll get going.” He levels Renjun and Donghyuck with  _ look _ , too playful to mean anything good for them. “Sorry for  _ interrupting _ before.”

Renjun's face burns and he glares at Chenle as he retreats with Jisung. "We're just  _ baking _ , you little-" he cuts off when Chenle vanishes with a laugh. Silence falls over the kitchen and Renjun chances a glance at Donghyuck just to find his face in a similar state- just as red as Renjun's feels. "Kids these days," he mutters, trying to cover up the awkwardness of the situation.

Donghyuck lets out an embarrassed cough and shifts his weight back and forth. "Yeah, Chenle's one brave guy," he sighs.

Renjun nods, entirely in agreement. Usually Chenle's sniping is funny, but usually it's aimed at Kun and whatever the hell he has going on with Ten. Now, though, Renjun is starting to sympathize a lot more with the sea-sick look Kun wears after each merciless cheeky comment from Chenle.

After a moment of heavy silence, Donghyuck tries valiantly to redirect the conversation by asking, "Do you really just know Chenle because you're both Chinese?"

At this, Renjun actually finds himself laughing. "Technically yeah. I met him through the school."

"Ah." Donghyuck's face clears in understanding. "That makes sense."

"Yeah."

"Seriously what are the odds though," Donghyuck laughs. "This area isn't  _ that  _ small."

The illogical part of Renjun's brain remembers their conversation from a few weeks back, when Donghyuck asked Renjun if he could believe in people being fated to find each other. He thinks it would be nice, if this was something like that, if somehow their lives were  _ meant  _ to be intertwined like this. Instead of voicing this thought, he takes a much more sensible stance. "Well Chenle and Jisung go to the same college, so it's not far-fetched at all that they'd know each other, and there's only one Chinese school in the area, and I'm pretty sure  _ all  _ of us know about it somehow, so that's only two things that needed to line up for all this to work out the way it did. That's not  _ too  _ crazy."

"You missed one," Donghyuck says.

Renjun tilts his head, running back through what he's just said. "Huh?"

"You missed the third thing that needed to line up."

"Which is?"

"You and me," Donghyuck says softly. "We needed to line up. What were the odds of  _ that _ ?"

Renjun falls silent. Somehow Donghyuck has zeroed in on exactly what he'd been thinking about. "I guess you're right." He lets out a small laugh, "I guess it's pretty crazy after all. Good crazy, though," he adds without thinking.

The slip of tongue draws a sweet smile onto Donghyuck's face. "Good crazy," he agrees.

For a long moment, the words hang in the air between them, and they stay exactly where they are, soaking it in. Then the oven  _ ding _ s to signal that it's finished preheating, and Renjun and Donghyuck both jump, shaken from the reverie.

"Macarons," Donghyuck says, swiveling to face the counter again. "We should probably finish them."

"Right." Renjun steps back to his spot in front of the bowl and sifter.

"I'll do the eggs," Donghyuck offers, "I think you've got the sifting thing down."

"Yeah," Renjun says, throat tightening at the memory of Donghyuck wrapped around him. "I got it. Thanks."

Donghyuck hums, and moves towards the bowl where they'd left the egg whites Renjun had separated out earlier. "If I just say what I'm doing, do you think you can follow without being able to look at it?"

"Yeah, beating the eggs seems straightforward enough, but I'll listen carefully."

"You'd be surprised," Donghyuck laughs. "Macaron's are picky bastards, so you can never underestimate any step of the process."

"Lesson learned," Renjun says, and it sounds more like a sigh than anything else as he recalls the disaster of his first attempt.

Donghyuck laughs again, and then they get to business.

From there it's fairly smooth sailing. Donghyuck explains exactly what he's doing - and  _ why -  _ and Renjun finishes sifting the dry ingredients not once, but twice. As they work, the awkward tension in the air from the Chenle Incident slowly dissipates, and Renjun once again marvels at how comfortable he is around Donghyuck. Maybe it helps that most of his focus has to stay on what he's doing so he doesn't have many chances to get caught staring at Donghyuck and thinking about how nice his lips look when he bites lightly at them while concentrating, but that's neither here nor there.

At one point, to demonstrate how stiff the meringue he’s whipped up is, Donghyuck lifts the bowl and flips it over his head. Renjun sucks in a breath, tensing at the thought of all that work pouring down into Donghyuck’s hair, but the meringue doesn’t budge. Donghyuck laughs brightly at his reaction, and Renjun is only a little embarrassed. The warmth that floods his chest at the sound of Donghyuck laughing softens the blow to his ego by an enormous amount.

"I'm really starting to get why these things cost so fucking much," Renjun says wearily after what has felt like a solid ten minutes of folding the dry ingredients into the meringue Donghyuck had showed him how to make.

Donghyuck lets out a tired laugh. "Yeah. The bastards  _ really  _ make you work for them. It'll be one hell of a gift if you manage to actually make a good batch."

"Thank you for your  _ clear  _ faith in my abilities," Renjun says, making a careful figure eight with the batter, just as Donghyuck had instructed. Apparently it’s supposed to help determine when the batter has been mixed the perfect amount. Renjun tries to think of it as art to keep it from feeling like a unique form of torture. The food coloring tinting the batter pink helps a bit, but not nearly enough as Renjun would like.

“I just call it like I see it,” Donghyuck says with a shrug. “Oh, look at that! You got it done without the batter breaking! That means it’s good to go!”

“Thank god,” Renjun groans, setting the spatula down in the bowl and shaking his hands out. 

This elicits another laugh from Donghyuck, and Renjun can’t help but smile. The fact that Donghyuck is in a good mood makes it incredibly difficult to be grumpy. In all honesty, just the fact that Donghyuck is  _ with  _ him makes it hard to feel anything worse than giddiness with a twinge of nerves.

“Let’s get this into a piping bag, yeah?” Donghyuck says. “You can hold it and I’ll scoop? Unless you’d rather do it the other way ‘round?”

“Nah, that sounds fine.” Renjun spins around, searching the counter for the piping bag. When he doesn’t find it, Donghyuck realizes it’s still put away, and produces it quickly. 

"Here you go," he says, pressing it into Renjun's open hands.

"Thanks," Renjun says, trying not to think too hard about the feeling of their fingers brushing. It makes him feel like a school boy, and it has too much potential to bring color high into his cheeks.

Donghyuck moves to grab the bowl, and together they get the fluffy batter into the piping bag in much less time than Renjun had feared it might take.

"Okay, can you grab the tray?" Donghyuck asks, setting down the empty mixing bowl on the counter and taking the piping bag from Renjun's hands to close it off at the top.

"Yeah." Renjun walks across to the kitchen to where the counter meets the wall, and pulls the baking tray from where it's leaned up against the wall. He brings it back to Donghyuck and lays it in the free space left on the counter.

"Here's a fun trick," Donghyuck says. "If you put a dot of the batter in each corner like this-" he adds four pink dollops to the tray "-then when you put down the parchment paper, it sticks really well."

"Oh, cool." Renjun leans in to examine the dots of batter, finding that it looks at least ten times better than what he'd whipped up on his own. "That's smart."

"Yeah." Donghyuck grins, pleased. "Can you grab the parchment paper from that drawer over there?"

He directs Renjun to it, and Renjun prepares a sheet of it to fit over the baking tray. He lines up each corner with the guide marks Donghyuck has left, and smooths it down.

"Perfect!" Donghyuck praises, even though it's one of the simplest things Renjun has done all day. The compliment makes Renjun's cheeks tickle with warmth regardless.

"So the piping..." Renjun says. "I fucked up basically everything from start to finish but this part was especially rough. I think I made them way too big? What size are they supposed to be?"

"Like an inch and a half wide?" Donghyuck makes a small circle with his thumb and pointer finger to demonstrate.

Renjun grimaces. "Yeah, definitely made them too big."

Donghyuck snorts. "Don't sweat it. I think that can happen with a lot of cookies. Getting batter happy really is a thing."

It doesn't make Renjun feel much better, but he appreciates the effort.

"Here," Donghyuck says, "I'll make a couple examples and then you can do the rest?"

"Sure," Renjun nods.

Donghyuck leans over the counter and his tongue pokes out of the corner of his mouth as he concentrates on piping the batter in the right places, on piping just the right amount of batter for each cookie. It's cute.  _ Donghyuck  _ is cute. It's not a revelation, but it's more apparent than ever in the moment.

After three guides, Donghyuck leans back, satisfied, and passes the piping back to Renjun. "If you follow these, you can fit twelve on the sheet," he says.

"Okay." Renjun lets out a breath to calm himself, and then takes Donghyuck's place in front of the baking sheet. His first cookie is a bit too small - he'd decided to err on the side of caution after his earlier disasters - and Donghyuck laughs through his nose at the sight.

"Don't be so scared of messing up," he chides, "I think the batter can sense fear."

Renjun holds back a laugh so his hands don't shake as he moves on to pipe the next cookie.

"Fuck this batter, honestly," he mutters, piping another cookie. This one turns out better, at least. 

"That's the spirit," Donghyuck says, much too bright for what he's commending.

Renjun bites his lip to keep himself from talking again, focusing on the rest of the cookies. They have enough batter for two trays, and by the time Renjun makes it to the last cookie on the second tray, he thinks he might actually have it down, but he's not at all sad to have to stop.

"Not bad," Donghyuck says, nodding to the tray when Renjun straightens his back and sets down the empty piping bag.

"Such high praise," Renjun says dryly.

Donghyuck snorts, shakes his head. "Anyway, now we have to drop the trays."

Renjun stares at him. "I hope that means something other than what I'm thinking."

Instead of answering, Donghyuck takes both sides of the tray, lifts it a couple inches off the counter, then smacks it back down. Renjun flinches, startled, and Donghyuck has the decency to appear slightly apologetic. "It's that," he says. "You have to do it to get rid of the air bubbles, otherwise the cookies get fucked up when you bake them."

Renjun eyes the tray. The cookies look exactly the same. "I see."

"You try it a couple times," Donghyuck instructs, passing the tray to him.

Renjun takes it, slightly skeptical of the whole thing, but he trusts that Donghyuck knows infinitely more about this than he does. Following Donghyuck's lead, Renjun smacks the tray down onto the counter again and again, until Donghyuck declares that they've probably done enough. The second tray gets the same treatment.

"So can they bake now?" Renjun asks.

Donghyuck looks like he's about to nod, but then his face does something funny: twitching and contorting until it ultimately falls. He rubs the back of his neck, cursing under his breath. "Um," he starts, "I actually am pretty sure you have to let them sit out for like an hour, which I... definitely forgot about before just now."

Renjun stares at him, incredulous. "Are you serious?"

Donghyuck becomes very interested in the floor, looking down at his feet and refusing to meet Renjun's eyes. "Yeah..." he says.

Renjun takes a deep breath, sets the tray down on the counter again, and drags a hand down his face. "Well, these really are the cookies from hell," he mutters. "I guess I should have seen this one coming."

Donghyuck peeks up at Renjun through his lashes. "Sorry," he says.

Renjun brings his hand back up to run through his hair. "It's not your fault. I dug this grave  _ all  _ on my own, I think."

Donghyuck grimaces. "If you want to leave, I can just finish these on my own," he offers. "I can like, film the instructions or something. I don't know."

Renjun blinks. "Is that a polite way of kicking me out?"

Donghyuck's eyes go wide and he shakes his head, lifting a hand to grab Renjun's forearm like he’s worried Renjun will walk away if he doesn’t hold him there. "No, no! I just didn't want you to feel like you were stuck here. I don't know if you had plans for tonight or anything, and it'll take a while still to finish these since we haven't even done the filling yet. I definitely wasn't trying to kick you out, though! You can totally stay!"

An easy smile breaks out on Renjun's face. He realizes that an hour of free time with Donghyuck in his apartment might be a lot nicer than slaving away over the macarons uninterrupted for the whole night. "Well, it'd be rude to barge in here and do half the work and then leave the rest on you, wouldn't it? Especially since you're only doing this to help me in the first place. If it's fine for me to stay, I'd definitely like to."

A small smile worms its way onto Donghyuck's face too. Renjun thinks they might both be having the realization that the tragedy of the macarons might actually be a good opportunity for them. "Yeah," Donghyuck says, "I'd love it if you stayed."

"Cool," Renjun nods, glancing down at his arm, at Donghyuck's hand still wrapped loosely around it.

Donghyuck notices and lets go, but his lips stay curled in a warm smile. "Cool," he echoes, bouncing a little on the balls of his feet.

"So..." Renjun glances around, "what have you got around here that we can do for an hour? Aside from cleaning up this mess?"

Donghyuck's grin widens. "I have a couple ideas."

✨

Ten minutes later, with the kitchen fully cleaned of everything except what they'll need for making the filling later, and fifty minutes left to spare before they even have to put the first tray in the oven, Renjun and Donghyuck collapse onto the couch. It's the furthest Renjun's ever been into Donghyuck's apartment, though he recognizes the walls from the backgrounds of Donghyuck's video calls.

"Do you still have some oomph left in you, or are you in the mood for something absolutely brainless?" Donghyuck asks.

Renjun lets his eyes fall shut, sighing, "It's the Friday at the end of exam week; if you make me use my brain I will literally murder you."

Donghyuck snickers, uncaring of the threat. "That's what I figured," he says. "I'll grab my laptop and we can watch something?"

Renjun cracks his eyes open to peek at Donghyuck as he pushes himself back up from the couch. "That sounds good," he says, raising a hand to give Donghyuck a thumb's up before slumping back into the cushions and closing his eyes again. He'd been fine while they were working, but the second he'd crashed onto the couch, all the energy sapped from his body and now he's left boneless and exhausted where he sits.

The sound of Donghyuck's footsteps recede until soft silence fills the apartment. In what feels like an impressive feat of strength, Renjun tugs his legs up onto the couch and tucks them under himself, curling back into the cushions and getting comfortable. It occurs to him that he hadn't taken one of his post-school afternoon couch naps earlier, but if Donghyuck doesn't hurry back, he might end up changing that. He wonders how strange that would be- falling asleep on his ex's couch after crashing in and somehow convincing him to teach a baking lesson for free (or for the small payment of company, but that's a detail Renjun won't think too hard about).

Before he can come to any sort of conclusion, the floor creaks under-foot again to signal Donghyuck's return, and all Renjun's focus shifts to opening his eyes again so he can look at Donghyuck.

"Wow, Junnie. You look fucking wiped," Donghyuck laughs gently as he approaches the couch again. "The week that long?"

"Yeah," Renjun groans. "That long. It's a good thing we have break next week 'cause I don't think two days of recuperating is gonna be anywhere near close to enough."

"Aw," Donghyuck says, voice laced with sympathy. He sits down right next to Renjun, so their sides brush, and looks at him - really  _ looks  _ at him. There's something unbearably soft about his face as his eyes rake over Renjun's slumped form. It feels  _ intimate  _ in a way that makes Renjun’s chest squeeze and his stomach flip. It’s a feeling Renjun had almost forgotten.

"What are we watching?" Renjun murmurs, because he's too tired to truly deal with Donghyuck's weighted gaze, or the way it makes him feel.

Donghyuck smiles, a gentle little thing, helplessly fond. "That bad science channel you like just posted a new video, but I'm getting the vibe maybe an older one you don't have to focus on might be better?"

Renjun nods, warmth pooling in his chest. Donghyuck remembers. Donghyuck  _ cares _ . It's written all over his face. If Renjun were braver, a little more awake, maybe he'd take a chance here and do something about it. As is, though, he can only let his appreciation bleed into every inch of his face, and hope it's enough. "Thanks," he says, voice softened by fatigue and something more.

"'S no trouble," Donghyuck says as he opens his laptop and navigates to youtube. "Their videos are cool- even the older ones."

A smile tugs at the corners of Renjun's lips. "Yeah," he agrees.

Donghyuck pulls up a video about making a Frankenstein candle out of the remnants of dozens of spent candles, and shifts his laptop on the couch footstool until it's placed so that both of them can see the screen. He settles back into the couch next to Renjun, somehow closer than before. His arm and thigh press against Renjun's, and the warmth from his body seeps into Renjun's skin like sun on a summer day.

For the first few minutes of the video, Renjun can push back the heavy, tired weight threatening to pull his eyes shut and tug him into a shallow sleep, but the more time passes, the more his eyes droop. The heat of Donghyuck's body washing over him and the quiet hum of Donghyuck's breathing, slow and steady, lull Renjun into a state of fuzzy calm- not quite asleep, but not fully awake either. Everything feels soft, blurred around the edges. 

It’s easy then - much too easy - for Renjun to slip the rest of the way under.

✨

Renjun distinctly remembers drifting off with the slightly lumpy padding of a couch cushion holding his head up. He's sure he'd tipped his head back and nodded off in the pillows. He's  _ sure _ .

And yet, when Renjun is jolted from his light sleep by a loud  _ click _ , like that of a door falling shut, his head isn’t pillowed by the couch cushions. Renjun shifts as he wakes, and feels something distinctly firmer than any part of the couch holding his head up. His eyes open, and he realizes just what it is.

Renjun wakes to find his body curled around Donghyuck's, his head resting on Donghyuck's shoulder. The computer in front of them is still running, now playing a different video, with the captions on and the volume set low.

It's nice. Renjun's neck is the slightest bit stiff, but Donghyuck's body is ever-warm and soft, and he smells like lemon balm and something like home. It's comforting, familiar. He remembers this all too well- cuddling up next to Donghyuck, limbs draped half over him. It's nice.

Then Renjun remembers everything all at once. He and Donghyuck aren't dating. There's still that last bit of distance left between them- a bitter aftertaste to the sweetness.

He pulls swiftly away from Donghyuck, lifting his head and moving his arms and legs back into his own space. "Um..." he says eloquently, voice a bit rough.

Donghyuck flinches, surprised by the abruptness of Renjun's flight. He looks away from the computer to meet Renjun's shifting eyes. "You okay?" There's a caution to his voice that Renjun hasn't heard since the night before his birthday. He wishes he wasn't the reason for it.

"Yeah," Renjun says, pressing his lips together and twisting his fingers in his lap. "I didn't really mean to fall asleep. Sorry."

Donghyuck's hand twitches, like he wants to reach out, but isn't sure if he should. "Don't worry about it. You looked like you needed the rest."

"You saying I looked like crap?" Renjun asks, inserting lightness into his voice because friendly jabbing is better than seeing uncertainty painted across Donghyuck's face.

Donghyuck rolls his eyes, and it's halfhearted, but it brings brightness back to his demeanor, thins out the thick air between them. "I'm saying you looked like you were two seconds away from passing out for a solid ten minutes. And you  _ were _ , so..." He raises his brows, challenging Renjun to dispute the claim.

"Checkmate," Renjun mutters. It's an early concession, but he's  _ still  _ tired, and he's not sure his brain is functioning at high enough capacity for any real sparring with Donghyuck.

Donghyuck smiles - not his usual satisfied victory grin - but something gentler. There's a light in his eyes that makes Renjun think Donghyuck knows more about what's going on inside Renjun’s head than he had thought. It's too much for Renjun to consider with his exhaustion muddled mind, so he steers clear of it. Not for good, he promises himself, but for now.

"How long before we put the first cookies in?" Renjun asks.

"We could do it now, honestly," Donghyuck says, "It's been about an hour."

"Oh?" Renjun hadn't thought he'd been out that long. "I guess I have good timing then."

Donghyuck nods, something almost sheepish playing at the edges of his face. "I guess so." He stands, and offers a hand to Renjun to tug him to his feet.

Renjun sways a bit as he shoots upright too quickly, and dark stars dot his vision for a moment at the sudden shift. Donghyuck's hand stays wrapped around his until the black spots leave his eyes and he's steady on his feet.

"They go in for like seventeen minutes," Donghyuck says once he and Renjun make it to the kitchen. "And they have to sit and cool for a while after that, so I figure we can wait to start on the filling until the second tray goes in."

"Sounds good," Renjun says. Donghyuck lifts the tray from the counter and Renjun opens the oven door so he can slide it in. When the oven door seals shut again, Renjun finds himself staring at the black window on the oven front. "That was really anti-climactic."

Donghyuck laughs. "Yeah, I guess that's not the most exciting part. That might be a good thing though; you still don't look like you're totally awake." And, like he's emboldened by Renjun’s still dazed state, Donghyuck reaches out to cup the nape of Renjun's neck, thumb brushing delicately over his skin for a moment before Donghyuck draws his hand back to his side.

Renjun is good and truly speechless for what feels like a full minute. He opens his mouth to say something,  _ anything _ , but what can he say to that? He chews on his lower lip, eyes darting away from Donghyuck's because the weight of his gaze makes it even harder to think. His saving grace comes in the strangest form: the panel of buttons decorating the microwave that's attached at the top of the stove.

"We should set a timer, shouldn't we?" Renjun says as he looks at the glowing green numbers displaying the time instead of a countdown clock.

Donghyuck makes an audible sound of surprise, like this small detail had entirely slipped his mind. "Yup," he says, taking a hurried step towards the oven again. "We definitely should." Donghyuck punches in a reduced timer and then lets out a breath. "Thanks for spotting that. I can't believe I forgot."

Renjun laughs through his nose. "Isn't that, like, rule number one of baking?"

Donghyuck makes a face at him. "I guess it's been a long week for me too."

"Yeah, you're looking kinda rough," Renjun says, but there's too much fondness in his voice, too much warmth. He  _ knows  _ that his eyes are soft as he looks at Donghyuck. It's one of the hazards of being in love.

The weakness of the jab means Donghyuck just smiles at him, a similar softness brushed across his face. "Back to the couch, then?"

"Hundred percent," Renjun says, already spinning on his heel and walking back towards the living space so he can crash onto the cushions again.

Donghyuck follows right behind him, and he settles onto the couch beside Renjun. This time, he hesitates before touching Renjun at all, and it makes a strange weight settle in Renjun's stomach, like he's done something wrong. It occurs to Renjun that jolting away from Donghyuck earlier might have sent the wrong message, that doubt might cloud Donghyuck's readings of his actions, so he makes to correct this assumption. Wordlessly, trying to make it seem as nonchalant as possible (though he's never been very good at that where Donghyuck is involved) Renjun shifts to press their sides together again.

Donghyuck doesn't say anything, but the line of his shoulders softens as tension bleeds from them, and he leans into Renjun just enough for him to feel it.

"You gonna fall asleep on me again?" Donghyuck asks, queuing up a new video.

"Ha ha," Renjun says, though he can't truthfully say no. There's something about Donghyuck's couch - or maybe about being on the couch  _ with  _ Donghyuck right beside him - that makes sleep seem so tempting.

"It was a serious question," Donghyuck teases. "I need you at least mostly alert for making the filling, so if you need another cat nap you should go for it."

Renjun shakes his head, blinking to try and ease the faint burn of his eyes. "I'll be good. I don't really need to  _ sleep _ , just rest."

"If you're sure," Donghyuck says, eyeing him to check his face for any signs that he might just be putting up a front. Donghyuck holds his gaze for a moment, before deciding that he believes Renjun, and leaning forward to make the video fullscreen and start it playing. "I'm so ready to see all these bath bombs get absolutely wrecked," he jokes, leaning back into the couch cushions, right up against Renjun's arm. "It shouldn't be as satisfying as it is, and yet..."

"Yeah," Renjun agrees. "It's like soap cutting but more exciting."

"Exactly!"

As the video starts to play, Renjun lets himself lean into Donghyuck again, pushing down the voice of fearful reason that had pulled him away from Donghyuck earlier. Even if they're not dating, friends can be close like this, he reasons back. He then blocks out the voice when it tries to make a counter argument; he doesn't want to listen to it.

As if in response, Donghyuck's hand comes up to brush against Renjun's arm, fingers skimming over Renjun's skin and leaving hot goosebumps in their wake. When Donghyuck's hand finally stills, it rests over Renjun's. Renjun flips his hand over, offering his palm to Donghyuck all without taking his eyes off the computer screen. Donghyuck laces their fingers loosely together, and Renjun bites down the smile that tries to take over his face, and forces himself to stay tuned in to the video playing.

The minutes pass, and Renjun feels himself slowly slumping more and more into Donghyuck's side, but he can't bring himself to stop. He hopes, even really  _ thinks _ , that it's okay, that the way Donghyuck softens against him means he wants the closeness just as much as Renjun does. Touch has always been Donghyuck's favorite way to display affection, so freely given like this, it carries a weight that Renjun finds he's comfortable under. Donghyuck's careful touches here bring the same reassurance that a pile of blankets do on a cold night, makes Renjun feel warm and secure where he's curled up on the couch.

It lasts for just over twelve minutes before the door to Jisung's bedroom swings open and Chenle emerges. "What's the..." he starts to ask, but trails off the moment he sees Renjun and Donghyuck pressed against each other on the couch. His eyes drop from their faces to their joined hands, and his lips twitch like he's trying to suppress a grin. Something shines through in his eyes, though, and Renjun feels distinctly  _ seen,  _ like Chenle has taken one look at him and peeled back every protective layer wrapped around him to catch a glimpse of his heart hammering in his chest.

"What's the what?" Donghyuck asks. Renjun knows him well enough to hear the slight strain in his voice.

Chenle blinks at them, coming back to his senses. "Oh. What's the eta on the cookies?"

"You little-" Donghyuck mutters under his breath, though there's only a hint of real heat to it. Louder, to Chenle, he says, "About twenty-five hours."

"Are you fucking with me?" Chenle asks, narrowing his eyes at Donghyuck like this is a game they regularly play.

"No. You're supposed to wait a day before eating macarons after making them for the best flavor. So about twenty-five hours from now they'll be ready to go."

Chenle opens his mouth, then promptly closes it again. He looks harder at Donghyuck, at Renjun tucked into Donghyuck's side. For a moment, there's a glimmer in his eyes that has Renjun unconsciously tensing in preparation for a teasing comment that might shatter the delicate connection he and Donghyuck have just built together. Instead of dealing a fatal blow, though, Chenle seems to reconsider, reel himself back in. "I guess I'll be back again tomorrow, then," he says simply. With that, he turns on his heel and slinks back into Jisung's room, closing the door behind himself.

"Do we really have to wait a day, or did you just make that up?" Renjun whispers, suddenly afraid of speaking too loudly.

Donghyuck tears his eyes away from the spot Chenle had been standing, and turns to Renjun. "I wish," he says lowly.

Renjun becomes distinctly aware, then, of their proximity, of how Donghyuck's face is just a breath away. He swallows, and fixes his eyes on Donghyuck's so they don't roam across his face, so they don't dip down to his lips.

"I told you," Donghyuck says, voice even lower than before, "these cookies are from hell."

Renjun's breath feels caught in his chest. Donghyuck is  _ so  _ close, he can barely register what he's saying. Renjun knows he should probably laugh a little at that, make some comment about how he should've picked something easier to try and learn how to make. He should probably do  _ something _ , but it takes everything he has not to lean forward and close the distance between Donghyuck and himself; he doesn't have enough in him to do more than just keep himself from kissing Donghyuck right then and there.

A part of him wants to just do it, to stop shying away from it and give into the temptation, but he knows he shouldn't. Not because he thinks Donghyuck would push him away - the look on Donghyuck's face as the silence stretches between them is enough to tell Renjun that he wouldn’t - but because he doesn’t want to do it like this, without talking, without clearing the air first and making sure they’re on the same page.

Renjun is saved from his own waning self control by the sudden beeping that cuts through the silence. The cookies, the timer.

Renjun blinks, startled, and the spell is broken just enough for him to look away from Donghyuck's captivating face. Tearing himself away from Donghyuck feels like tearing apart heavyweight magnets, but Renjun manages by telling himself that next time will be different. He stands from the couch, and Donghyuck follows, and together they hurry to the kitchen to check on the macarons.

The moment, the  _ thing  _ that had bloomed between them, slips out of the spotlight as the cookies demand attention, and neither Renjun nor Donghyuck mention it. That delicate blush of  _ almost _ , of  _ what if,  _ is added to the growing pile of things Renjun needs to discuss with Donghyuck before anything more can happen. Touch might be Donghyuck's favorite way of communicating, but Renjun needs the security of words too, needs the reassurance of hearing out loud how Donghyuck feels, needs to make sure Donghyuck knows exactly how he feels too.

Lacking communication might have sunk them once, but Renjun won't let it again.

While the first tray of cookies cool, and the second tray bakes, Renjun and Donghyuck mix up the filling in relative silence. Renjun mans the hand mixer, and while the buttercream frosting whips into form, he thinks.

By the time the second tray is done in the oven, the first half of the cookies have been moved to a cooling rack, and Donghyuck is busying himself cleaning up the kitchen around Renjun. It's no great feat from there to scoop the finished filling into a fresh piping bag, and clear the counter of everything but the bag and the cooling racks.

Just like that, all there's left to do is wait.

Donghyuck leans against the wall, hands tangled together and hanging by his hip, and Renjun stands by the cooling racks, checking the first batch of cookies to see if they're cool enough yet for the frosting.

"Looks like your cat nap worked," Donghyuck notes at Renjun's fidgeting.

Renjun pulls his hand back from where it's hovering over the cooling rack, trying to feel for any heat rising off the cookies. He rubs his neck sheepishly; he hadn't meant to come off so antsy, but while making the filling he'd come up with beginnings of a plan for how to tell Donghyuck how he feels, and even as tired as he is, he's itching to get started on it. In his enthusiasm, though, he'd forgotten that his eagerness to go home and get to work would probably read only as eagerness to go home and get away from Donghyuck, away from that almost  _ something  _ between them.

"Yeah," he says slowly, "I actually think I might have gotten sugar high while mixing in all that powdered sugar."

The blank look on Donghyuck's face is wiped away by the hint of a grin. "Oh yeah? Is that how it works? Inhaling sugar fumes makes you jittery?"

"I'm pretty sure," Renjun says, grateful for how easily Donghyuck has let him shift the tone of the room. "It's not one of my usual pastimes, though, so I can't be totally sure."

"Well I'll take your word for it anyway," Donghyuck says, grin playing at his lips.

The air grows light, sweet like the sugar that's leading their conversation, and the rest of the time needed for the cookies to cool all the way slips by almost without Renjun's notice. The next time he checks the cookies, they're cold to his light touch, and he and Donghyuck both brighten at the thought of finally finishing the batch of cookies for good.

Donghyuck pipes the first few cookies, showing Renjun the perfect amount of filling for each one, and then passes the piping bag to Renjun. In just a few minutes, all the cookies have been piped and pressed together, and the fruits of all Renjun and Donghyuck’s labor sits on the counter before them: twelve pink macarons, not bakery material, but pretty darn impressive considering Renjun’d had no idea what he was doing.

“Was it really all that work just for twelve cookies?” Renjun sighs in disbelief. It’s been hours since he first knocked on Donghyuck’s door, and these cookies (and a new layer of velvety tension between him and Donghyuck) is all there is to show for the time he’s spent here. He can’t quite believe it.

Donghyuck nods solemnly. “Cookies from hell,” he says.

“Cookies from hell,” Renjun echoes. “Thanks for teaching me how to make them, even if they are literally the worst.”

“Happy to help,” Donghyuck says. “You know how I feel about sharing food.”

Renjun bites his lip, and tries valiantly not to think too hard about what Donghyuck means by that. “Yeah,” he says. “Still. Thanks. I really do appreciate it.”

Donghyuck lifts a hand to rub Renjun’s shoulder, laughing a little as he says, “Well, you’re welcome.”

After a beat of contented silence, Renjun asks, “Is it okay if I take a couple home to share? I figure I should see if Jeno even likes the things when they’re not store bought to see if there’s any point in slaving through this again.”

“Oh?” Donghyuck seems surprised by the question. “Yeah, of course! I thought we were splitting half and half anyway?”

“Oh.” Renjun glances at Donghyuck to find sincerity in his eyes. “I just figured since this is all for your ingredients, and your kitchen that I crashed,  _ and  _ you have two kids to feed, that it just made sense for you to keep most of them.”

Donghyuck shrugs. “I’m really not that crazy about macarons, and technically you did most of the work while I just watched, and you’re the one who wanted the cookies in the first place, so I just assumed.”

Renjun laughs incredulously. “So basically we just need to talk more because clearly neither of us are mind readers.”

Donghyuck laughs too. “Yeah, that might be a good plan.”

It is, and it adds the final piece to the idea forming in Renjun’s head. He can’t help grinning widely as they package up six of the macarons for him to take back home, or as he says goodbye to Donghyuck in a short, parting hug. The smile dips a bit as he finally leaves and Donghyuck is sealed away by the closing of his front door, but the idea taking shape in Renjun’s mind keeps him going all the way back to his car, to his apartment. 

Renjun gets home, and though it’s late and he’s tired to his bones, his mind seems exempt from the exhaustion, buzzing loud enough that he knows it will keep him up even if he tries to sleep. So Renjun slips in and out of his bedroom, disturbing Jaemin’s quiet time just long enough to grab what he needs before leaving him to his solitude again. In the apartment’s main room, Renjun turns on the light over the table, and sits down. 

He begins to paint.

✨

The week of Renjun’s spring break passes uneventfully after the first Friday spent at Donghyuck's apartment. He takes a few days to decompress from the stress of exam week, and then gets to grading. He takes two shifts at the craft store, and buys a fresh tube of yellow paint. When Jaemin and Jeno are home, the three of them try to spend a bit more time together since they only have to work around two schedules instead of three, to varying degrees of success. Their greatest accomplishment is a game night on Wednesday, which miraculously wraps without any bloodshed.

In between work and play, Renjun devotes most of his non-sleeping time to painting. Jaemin snoops a couple times, trying to figure out what makes the seemingly ordinary painting so important to Renjun, but Renjun manages to dodge him every time. As much as he loves Jaemin, and generally loves sharing his art with him, this one painting feels a bit too personal to show off to anyone but its intended recipient.

By the following Friday, Jaemin's interest in the painting has waned, thanks to him becoming much more preoccupied with his own life. It's evening when Jaemin calls Renjun into their shared room, not as a trick to get him to leave his painting unattended, but because he wants help with something of his own.

Renjun sets his brushes down and opens the bedroom door curiously. He leans against the door frame and finds Jaemin standing in front of their mirror, staring hard at his own reflection.

"What's up?" Renjun asks.

"I don't know what to fucking wear," Jaemin groans, like he's not already wearing a perfectly nice outfit.

"What's wrong with that?" Renjun gestures to the clothes Jaemin's already got on.

"This isn't exactly first date chic," Jaemin says, eyeing Renjun like he's crazy for even asking such a question.

"Aren't first dates supposed to be casual? Like... you don't  _ really  _ go ham until you're sure you actually like each other?"

"This is what happens when you don't date in college," Jaemin shakes his head in disbelief.

"I'll take that as a no, then," Renjun sighs. "So what does your look need to have that this doesn't?"

"I need to look hot!" Jaemin says.

"Dude you literally  _ do _ ," Renjun says. "You could go in sweats and you'd still look hot."

Jaemin grins at this before snapping back to his senses. "I need to look  _ extra  _ hot."

Renjun chews on his lower lip and stares at Jaemin, wracking his brain trying to remember what clothes Jaemin even  _ owns _ . "What if you just did like... a button up and a plain shirt under it? Oh! Or that black turtleneck?"

Jaemin makes a face. "Who am I? Steve Jobs?"

Renjun resists the urge to roll his eyes. "Firstly, you're like forty years younger than he was, secondly if you  _ layer  _ it'll lose that effect, and  _ thirdly,  _ you are ten thousand times hotter than Steve Jobs, and that sweater is tight enough that I don't think your date would care even if you showed up in  _ just  _ that and jeans."

"That was four things," Jaemin says, but there's a light in his eyes that says he's actually considering Renjun's advice. He moves away from the mirror and rummages through his clothes for a minute until he produces the sweater and black and white striped button down. He changes, and turns a critical eye back to his reflection in the mirror. He looks himself up and down. "You know, this might actually work."

Renjun tries not to sigh in relief.

"Can I borrow your white jacket?" Jaemin asks, smoothing down non-existent wrinkles from the front of his shirt.

"As long as you don't fuck it up," Renjun says.

Jaemin sends him a bright smile, but there are nerves showing through in it. "I won't. Thanks for ordering the wrong size, by the way, it fits me perfectly."

Renjun rolls his eyes. "Of course, I did it just for you. Why would I want a jacket that fits  _ me  _ right when I could buy a jacket that fits  _ you _ ?"

"I'm so glad we're on the same page about this," Jaemin teases as he rummages some more, finally tugging the jacket in question out into the light. He shrugs it over his shoulders and gives himself another long look in the mirror.

Any other time, Renjun would poke fun at him for admiring himself so much, but tonight it seems like he's underwhelmed by his vision of himself, and is staring so intently because he's picking out flaws rather than appreciating the view. So instead of teasing, Renjun pushes himself off the door frame and walks up to Jaemin, standing in between him and the mirror. "You look good," he says.

Jaemin tears his eyes away from the mirror to look at Renjun, and up close, his nerves are much more apparent.

"What's gotten into, man? You look hot as hell, trust me. Whoever you're meeting tonight is gonna love you."

Jaemin purses his lips, running his hands over the material of the jacket like he can't keep still.

"I'm serious," Renjun says, reaching out to grab both of Jaemin's hands and squeezing them hard enough to make sure Jaemin is listening. "And if your date doesn't appreciate you, then I'll key their car."

Jaemin turns a bit green at this, but he cracks a smile. "Thanks, Junnie."

"Anytime." Renjun grins, loosening his grip on Jaemin's hands so he doesn't accidentally hurt him. He doesn't let go, though, just swings their hands together until Jaemin's smile grows a bit wider. "Remember to have fun tonight, okay? All dating’s about is having fun and making connections, right? So don't worry too much and just have a good time."

Jaemin smiles for real. "Here I thought  _ I  _ was  _ your  _ love guru."

Renjun scoffs, then softens. "Life's all about balance, I guess."

"I guess so," Jaemin agrees. There's a surety back in his voice that tells Renjun his work is done. He gives Jaemin's hands one last squeeze and then drops them, stepping away so Jaemin can give himself a final once-over in the mirror. "I  _ do  _ look hot," Jaemin says after a moment.

"That's what I've been saying, man," Renjun says with a laugh. "So are you good to go or do I need to prep another pep-talk?"

Jaemin snorts. "I'm good. Don't have to leave for like another half hour, but I'm good."

"Awesome. I'm gonna be back at the table, then."

"'Kay, thanks for the help," Jaemin says.

Renjun nods and then heads back to his seat at the table, diving right back into the painting. After working on it for a week straight, he's almost done. In theory, he could have finished it sooner, but he's been taking his time, working with care; it's a special piece, and he wants it to be as nice as possible. This isn't the kind of thing he feels comfortable rushing.

Another few minutes pass, and then Renjun's phone buzzes and draws his attention away from the painting. He unlocks it to find a text from Donghyuck, an  _ sos  _ asking if he can call. Renjun responds  _ yes _ right away, curious and a bit worried.

Thirty seconds later, his phone lights up with an incoming call. He answers it, lifting the phone to his ear. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah," Donghyuck says, sounding strained. "I just... god this is so weird, but is there any way I can come over? And like... spend the night?" His voice cuts out for a moment and then comes back all at once, the words rushing out as he tries to explain himself before Renjun can respond. "I know it's super without warning and a dick move and everything, but Chenle's staying over tonight and whatever's going on between him and Jisung is fucking  _ weird  _ today and I feel like something's going to go down tonight, and I hope it's something good obviously, but I also really don't want to be here for it if it's like  _ that _ , you know?"

When Donghyuck stops rambling, Renjun can hear him breathing heavily on the other end of the line, like he hadn't stopped to breathe before. Honestly, it sounded like he hadn't, and it'd all come at Renjun so quickly, it takes him a moment to process it all.

"Renjun?" Donghyuck asks weakly when he's met by silence.

"Um, yeah," Renjun says once he's wrapped his head around everything, "I need to ask the guys. Gimme a sec?"

"Of course," Donghyuck says, sounding relieved that he hadn't gotten an immediate no.

Renjun twists in his seat and moves his phone to press it against his chest and hopefully muffle the mic. "Jaemin," he calls into their bedroom, "I've got a question, do you have a sec?"

Jaemin's head pops out of the room, and his hair looks somehow more styled than it had before. "Yeah?"

"Donghyuck's... having a situation right now, and wants to know if he can crash on our couch tonight. I told him I had to check with you guys before agreeing to anything."

Jaemin's eyes widen. "Is he okay?"

Renjun shrugs. "I think so?"

"Okay," Jaemin says, alarm bleeding from his face, "yeah, he can stay here if he needs to. Just tell him the house rules."

“Thanks,” Renjun breathes in relief. It’s short-lived, though, as he realizes he still has to ask Jeno, and Jeno doesn’t know Donghyuck at all, so he has even less reason to agree than Jaemin. Renjun lifts the phone back to his ear and tells Donghyuck they've got one yes, and one to go, then stands and pads over to Jeno's door. He lifts a hand to knock, going for full politeness ahead of asking for a favor.

"Yeah?" Jeno calls from inside his room.

"Hey, Jen," Renjun says loud enough to be heard through the door. "Can I come in for a sec? I've got a question."

"Sure," Jeno says, and so Renjun opens the door and peeks his head in. "What's up?" Jeno asks.

"My, um," Renjun starts, grimacing at the hesitance in his own voice. "Donghyuck asked if he could crash here tonight. Would that be okay? I promise we'd stay out of your hair."

Jeno twists away from his computer to face Renjun. To Renjun's immense relief, Jeno shrugs. "Yeah, sure," he says with an easy grin. "I don't mind. I'm going out for a bit anyway."

"Oh." Renjun blinks, and finally takes in Jeno's full appearance. He's wearing a soft blue pullover and his glasses are perched right on the bridge of his nose - par for the course for a Friday night spent shut in as usual - but below that, he's in dark jeans, definitely  _ not  _ lounge wear. Renjun blinks again in surprise; Jeno’s not usually the type to go for weekend nights. "Have fun? And thanks,” he says.

Jeno lets out a good-natured chuckle. "No problem. Thanks back." He turns around in his chair again, and Renjun takes the queue to leave him be so he can wrap up whatever he's working on before heading out. The door clicks softly as Renjun pulls it shut.

Renjun lifts the phone back to his ear and checks to make sure the call is still going. "Donghyuck?"

"Still here," Donghyuck assures.

"Great. Jeno also gave the okay, so you can come over."

Donghyuck heaves a sigh of relief. "Thank you so much. And I'm really sorry, I know it's such a dumb reason to ask for a favor like this, but the vibes here are so weird and I really don’t think I can deal with it tonight."

"Don't worry about it," Renjun says. "What are friends for?"

"Right," Donghyuck says, voice dropping. "Friends. I'll text you before I leave, okay? Thanks again."

Renjun barely has time to say  _ sure  _ before Donghyuck hangs up the phone, leaving him with silence ringing in his ears. Renjun lets his hand drop back to his side and groans. That had definitely been a weird way to end the call, and Donghyuck's tone had changed noticeably at the word  _ friends _ . He had sounded disappointed.

Renjun is about to hang his head in his hands and lament the slip of tongue making things awkward, when realization hits him like a lightning bolt. Donghyuck had sounded disappointed. Renjun knows his voice and mannerisms well enough to  _ know  _ that he'd been disappointed. And if Donghyuck had been disappointed that Renjun called them friends, then that means...

Renjun's eyes go wide, and he rushes back to the table, throwing himself back down into his chair. He knows, he  _ knows _ .

He has a painting to finish.

✨

Just under an hour later, Jaemin has left for his date, and Jeno is pulling on his shoes by the apartment door, getting ready to leave as well. Renjun is almost ready to start adding the finishing touches to his painting, when his phone buzzes, loud against the table. Renjun jumps, and sets down his brush to grab the phone.

The screen is lit up with a message from Donghyuck, asking what apartment number he should be looking for. Renjun shoots him a quick response, and then lifts his canvas gingerly off the table to move it somewhere Donghyuck won't stumble upon it before Renjun is able to add a few final flourishes to perfect it.

Renjun returns to the table to clear away his painting supplies, only to find Jeno still standing by the door. "Forget something?" Renjun asks.

Jeno shakes his head, but Renjun misses it in his rush to remove any evidence of the art he's been working on. When he returns to the main room, though, and finds that Jeno is  _ still  _ standing in front of the door, he puts two and two together.

"Oh, god, are you waiting for Donghyuck to get here?"

Jeno sends him a look of perfect innocence, and Renjun opens his mouth to tell Jeno that he's full of crap, but a knock on the door sounds through the apartment before he can. Jeno's eyes light up, and he swings the door open like he's been waiting for it, and Renjun suspects that’s just the case.

Renjun hurries to Jeno's side as he opens the door fully to reveal Donghyuck standing in the hall, an overnight bag slung over one shoulder, staring at Jeno like a deer caught in headlights.

"You must be Donghyuck," Jeno says with a grin that's somehow both bright  _ and  _ slightly threatening. "Nice to meet you."

Donghyuck blinks up at Jeno and visibly swallows. "Um. Yeah. Hi."

Jeno offers an outstretched hand to Donghyuck, whose eyes widen and dart towards Renjun for a split second, before he reaches out to shake Jeno's hand.

Renjun winces as Jeno gives Donghyuck's hand one firm shake before letting him go again.

"I'm heading out now," Jeno says, "but I'll see you again later, maybe." With that, he turns back to Renjun and smiles, far too pleased with himself for making such a strong and  _ strange  _ first impression with Donghyuck. "See you." Jeno claps Renjun's shoulder and then side steps Donghyuck, making for the stairs.

Renjun stares after him until he's out of sight. When Jeno is finally gone, Renjun turns sheepishly to Donghyuck. "Sorry about that," he says.

Donghyuck's lips are parted, and he looks slightly speechless, frozen where he stands, so Renjun reaches forward to wrap a hand around Donghyuck's wrist and tug him into the apartment. When the door falls shut behind them, Donghyuck seems to snap out of his stupor.

" _ That's  _ Jeno? Board games Jeno?"

Renjun nods. "That's Jeno. I promise he's not usually so...  _ that _ ."

Donghyuck slips off his shoes and lines them neatly next to a pair of Renjun's. "I feel like I just got hazed," he mutters.

Renjun can't help but snicker. "I don't think it was  _ that  _ bad."

"Do you know how hard he squeezed my hand?" Donghyuck says, brandishing his hand in front of Renjun's face. "I think I felt something pop."

Renjun bites back another laugh and catches Donghyuck's hand, laying it flat atop his own, inspecting for the alleged damage. He runs a finger gingerly down the lines of Donghyuck's palm before flipping his hand over and looking at the back too. "It looks fine to me," he says.

Donghyuck doesn't respond. Renjun glances up to find Donghyuck staring at him, wide-eyed for the second time in as many minutes.

"You okay?" Renjun asks. "You're not really hurt, right?"

Donghyuck shakes his head and averts his eyes. The hand that isn't held in Renjun's clutches the strap of his overnight bag. Renjun takes the sight in and lets Donghyuck's hand go, taking a step back.

"Is everything really fine?"

Donghyuck meets Renjun's eyes again and nods. "Yeah," he says, "sorry. I'm just having a weird day and it seems like it just keeps getting weirder." He laughs a bit, but it sounds forced.

Renjun frowns, teeth catching on his bottom lip. "Sorry. I really promise Jeno's usually chill, he just has a weird sense of humor."

"It's fine, really," Donghyuck insists. "Probably would've been even weirder to stay home anyway."

"Was it really that bad? Chenle and Jisung seemed really close last week."

"Oh, they  _ are  _ really close," Donghyuck says. "I think that's part of the problem, honestly, but Jisung wouldn't talk to me about it so I don't  _ really  _ know what's going on." He sighs. "Apparently he trusts some guy he dances with more than me with this kind of stuff and has been asking him for advice instead."

_ Ah _ . Renjun lets out a breath of understanding and reaches for Donghyuck's arm again, leading him further into the apartment. "That sucks," he says as they walk to the couch, "I'm sure it's not personal though. Maybe he wants an objective opinion, since he knows you're biased? He really doesn't seem like he'd do anything to hurt you on purpose."

Donghyuck sets his bag on the ground by the couch and crosses his arms as they sit. "Who says I'm hurt," he humphs.

Renjun is tempted to give him a dead stare in response, tell him he's not fooling anyone, but if Donghyuck's having a bad day already, it wouldn't hurt to be a bit gentler. A  _ bit _ . "Sure, okay. Clearly there aren't any hard feelings here-" he gestures to Donghyuck's slouched posture and crossed arms "-at all."

Donghyuck levels him with a weak stare for all of ten seconds before giving up with a heavy sigh and falling back against the couch cushions. "Fine. I might be a  _ little  _ upset." He purses his lips and his brows furrow like he's thinking hard, so Renjun leans back against the couch as well and waits for Donghyuck to collect his thoughts.

"It's just annoying," Donghyuck says after a minute. "I'm the youngest and the newest person in the kitchen at work, and I guess it's fine 'cause everyone there is pretty cool, but they treat me like a kid. Chan's only a year and a half older than me but he's been there for ages so it doesn't even matter." Donghyuck groans. "So the only time I actually feel like I know what I'm doing is when I'm home and helping Jisung with something, but even  _ he  _ doesn't need me for this because he has someone better to ask for advice?"

Donghyuck goes quiet again, gnawing on his lip and refusing to look away from the ceiling and meet Renjun's eyes. He doesn't look like he's finished articulating whatever's bothering him, so Renjun gives him more time. He lets a tentative hand rest on Donghyuck's thigh, hoping it'll provide comfort where words can't.

After another long minute, Donghyuck's eyes fall from the ceiling and he sighs. "I just don't like feeling like this." His voice grows impossibly small. "I don't like being alone."

Renjun's heart clenches in his chest and he can't bite his tongue any longer. "You know I'm  _ right  _ here, right?"

Donghyuck glances at Renjun, something unreadable on his face.

"I'm here for you," Renjun says, softer. _ I care about you _ .

Donghyuck smiles, and there's  _ something  _ there, but it's gone before Renjun can catch it and puzzle it out. "Thanks," Donghyuck says. He holds Renjun's gaze for just a moment before looking away again. "Sorry. I didn't mean to come here and complain." Donghyuck moves to get up from the couch, and Renjun recognizes the action from the years they've spent together, knows what it means, and reacts before he has a chance to think.

Renjun pushes forward and wraps his arms around Donghyuck before he can pull away and close himself off. Donghyuck as good as squeaks in surprise, but doesn't resist as Renjun pulls him into a hug.

"What-" Donghyuck starts to stay, but he cuts off when Renjun gets a good hold around him and his head ends up tucked against Renjun's shoulder. They sit, perched on the edge of the couch, and Renjun holds Donghyuck close to his chest until Donghyuck tentatively returns the hug. "Renjun?"

Renjun feels his cheeks burn at the suddenness of his own actions, at how little he'd thought them through, and he's glad that Donghyuck can't see his face because he's sure it's a garish shade of burnt blush under the orange overhead light. "I'm trying to speak your language, dummy," he mutters.

"My- what?"

"Your love language," Renjun says, the heat in his face spreading down his neck. "You didn't seem like you believed me before."

"Oh," Donghyuck whispers. His grip around Renjun tightens. "I did believe you. I do believe you."

"Good," Renjun says, finally relaxing. "Because it really looked like you were trying to ditch me in my own home."

Donghyuck squirms, caught. "I would never," he says. It's  _ very  _ unconvincing.

Renjun laughs and lets Donghyuck go so he can shove him lightly. "Sure you wouldn't."

Donghyuck flushes, a sheepish grin on his face, and it's such a pretty sight that Renjun forgets to be embarrassed of the color he's sure is in his own cheeks as well.

"You know," Renjun says, "I do actually have something I could use your help with, if you need a project."

Donghyuck tilts his head curiously, then notes the teasing lilt in Renjun's voice and narrows his eyes in suspicion. "What is it?"

"Wait right here," Renjun says, patting Donghyuck's thigh and standing from the couch. He walks to his bedroom and doesn't even need to turn on the light to find what he's looking for. A minute later, he's back in front of Donghyuck hands clutched around a large box.

"Are you serious?" Donghyuck asks, eyeing the box.

"Absolutely," Renjun says. "I don't have the patience or floor space to make a puzzle this big on my own. But with you helping, I bet we could finish it before you leave in the morning."

Donghyuck pretends to groan in dismay, and Renjun shoots him the stink eye. "Come on, we haven't had a puzzle night in so long. And I know you secretly loved them."

Donghyuck stops pulling his face into a grimace and a soft look of contentment falls over him. "You can't ever make me admit that," he says as he drops from the couch to the floor.

Renjun grins, and sinks down to his knees to upend the contents of the box onto the ground. "We'll see about that."

Donghyuck rolls his eyes, but gets right to sorting through the puzzle pieces as Renjun stands the box up a ways away so they can use the cover picture for reference. Together, they start to assemble the puzzle.

✨

The puzzle keeps them occupied for hours. 

At first, it takes a bit for them to really get going, as they dissolve into bickering as soon as the edge pieces are sorted out from the rest of the pile - Renjun wants to make the whole frame before starting on the body of the puzzle, but Donghyuck wants to  _ get right to the good stuff _ \- but once they realize they can work on seperate parts of the puzzle simultaneously, the whole operation becomes much more streamlined.

Renjun finishes the border of the puzzle and then starts working down from the bottom, while Donghyuck works from the bottom up. For the first hour, they work in relative silence, Donghyuck laying on his stomach and forearms and Renjun in a sitting cross-legged and trying not to hunch over too much, both fully focused on constructing the puzzle’s skeleton. As time drags on though, their focus fades and they start to chat absently while working. Donghyuck recounts some stories from Mark’s visit, and Renjun resists the urge to reach out and hold Donghyuck’s hand at the bittersweet notes in his voice. 

Two hours in, as the clock nears eleven, Jaemin and Jeno are both still out, and Renjun finds his attention on the puzzle waning. He can only look at half of a picture of a school of fish for so long before losing interest. Donghyuck tries ten different blue puzzle pieces in one spot, and then groans loudly in defeat when none of them fit. He pushes all the failed pieces to the side and rolls towards Renjun, stopping once he’s laying on his back, his arm pressed against Renjun’s right thigh. 

“Why is there so much fucking  _ blue _ in this puzzle,” he whines.

“It’s the ocean, dummy,” Renjun says, though in all honesty he feels the same way. While all the blue is testing Donghyuck’s patience, the multicolored fish are giving Renjun a headache.

“Still,” Donghyuck mutters. “They could at least change up the tone a bit or something.”

Renjun hums, squinting down at an orange and red piece he’d just picked out, trying to remember where he’d wanted to try fitting it. 

“Let’s take a break,” Donghyuck says.

“It’s only been two hours,” Renjun says, trying and failing to slot the piece into place.

“ _ Only _ ? Come on, you haven’t found a match for like two whole minutes. A quick break will help your brain reset.”

Renjun keeps his eyes on the puzzle, trying his luck again. 

“ _ Renjun _ ,” Donghyuck groans, drawing out his name.

“Just let me get this one,” Renjun says, stubbornly clinging to the piece in his hand. Before he can follow through, though, he makes the mistake of looking away from the puzzle. His eyes land on Donghyuck’s face, those big round eyes and pouted lips, and it’s like all his resolve crumbles to dust in an instant. He sighs, letting the puzzle piece drop to the ground. 

Donghyuck’s face brightens, and he scoots to the side to make room for Renjun to lay down as well, patting the floor to urge Renjun to join him. Renjun, because he’s embarrassingly weak, complies, and just like that they’re side by side, staring up at the ceiling together. 

“Laying on the floor is so therapeutic, right?” Donghyuck murmurs.

“Yeah,” Renjun says, voice low because the position they’re in makes everything around them look larger than life, makes it feel like they’re in their own private bubble, and there’s no need to speak any louder than a whisper. It’s probably for the same reason that they fall silent after that, just soaking in each other’s presence in the quiet stillness of the apartment. 

With no sunlight to track across the wall, nothing to see but the white ceiling, it’s hard to tell how much time passes. Renjun’s eyes fall shut, and his mind wanders away from him. He starts to wonder what exactly he should say to Donghyuck tonight, because for all his work putting his feelings into paint, he still hasn’t thought of the right words. All he’s sure of are the ever-cliche three words that have been clinging to the tip of his tongue for weeks now, but Donghyuck deserves more than that, and Renjun thinks he owes it to himself too, to finally admit how he feels,  _ all  _ of how he feels.

He wants to start with honest communication, to fix the mistakes he - they  _ both  _ \- had made when they were younger. 

He also wants to finish his puzzle. 

“That enough of a break for you?” Renjun asks into the silence.

“Yeah,” Donghyuck says after a beat. “Thanks.”

“No problem,” Renjun says, and he can hear the smile in his own voice as he rolls over onto his stomach to tackle the puzzle again. 

Donghyuck follows his lead, and they get back to work.

The silence lingers a while longer, and it’s strange that it’s just as easy as endless chatter and bickering. Soon Renjun has almost finished piecing together his school of fish, and Donghyuck has turned the tide of his struggle against the ocean water.

“Kind of feels like we’re having a sleepover,” Donghyuck says, slotting another piece into place.

A small laugh bubbles in Renjun’s chest. “Yeah, I guess it kind of does.”

“Remember the summer before sophomore year when we fell asleep on my bedroom floor?” Donghyuck asks, tone softened by nostalgia. “You rolled right into the foot of my bed and got that huge bruise on your cheek and everyone thought you’d gotten in a fight?”

Something bursts in Renjun’s chest at the memory, at the fondness in Donghyuck’s voice. It surges up, a well of emotion ready to spill out, and his throat tightens around it. “Yeah,” he says, hoping it doesn’t sound as choked as it feels. “I remember.”

Donghyuck hums, and Renjun’s breath shakes.

“Oh, this is one of your pieces, I think,” Donghyuck says, like all of Renjun’s carefully contained emotions aren’t about to burst him open at the seams. Donghyuck holds out an open palm towards Renjun, offering him a piece printed with a bright pink tailfin. 

Renjun reaches out wordlessly to take it, but as if his fingers have a mind of their own, they close not around the puzzle piece, but around Donghyuck’s whole hand. Renjun grips tightly, enough that he can feel the imprint of the puzzle piece pressing into his palm. Donghyuck’s hand in his feels like a lifeline, the one part of Renjun that isn’t about to shatter under the sheer force of every feeling rising within him.

“Junnie?” Donghyuck asks, voice laced with surprise, curiosity. 

Just like that, the dam breaks. Renjun hasn’t finished thinking anything through, but the words tumble from his lips regardless, truth running freely off his tongue and into the air for Donghyuck to hear. “I missed you so much, Hyuck,” Renjun breathes, and the admission leaves a heavy ache in his chest where it had been stored before. “So fucking much.” 

Donghyuck sucks in a breath, and Renjun can feel Donghyuck’s gaze burning into his cheek, but he keeps his eyes locked on their hands. He doesn’t know what he’ll do if he looks Donghyuck in the eye now, doesn’t know if he  _ can _ . 

“I hated the way things ended between us.” It’s not what Renjun means to say, but the words come before he can stop them, and it’s the truth. It feels like ripping stitches out of an old, half-healed wound, like bleeding and aching all over again. More and more wells up inside of him, clawing up his throat until it all spills from his lips, confession after confession. “I wish you had just  _ talked  _ to me sooner, so maybe we could have figured something out. I wish  _ I’d  _ talked to you, wish I’d done  _ something _ . Fucking  _ tried  _ instead of just giving up.” 

Renjun takes a shuddering breath, and it burns through his lungs. With the heat, though, he can feel something in his chest melting away; an old, icy ache that’s clung to him for years, so he doesn’t stop, doesn’t fight against the honesty. “God, Donghyuck, I’m sorry. I’m sorry I didn’t try to make things work. I was just so scared back then. I never fucking wanted to lose you, but I was so scared that I felt like I already had. You were leaving and by the time you were going to get back, I didn’t know where I would be, where I’d be going.” 

To Renjun’s horror, as each painstakingly buried admission pours out of him, he starts to cry. Hot tears burn his eyes and track red down his cheeks. There’s salt on his lips when his voice cracks around another whispered confession. “I just didn’t know what to do, and then it was too late.”

Renjun lifts his free hand, intent on scrubbing away the wetness on his cheeks, but Donghyuck catches him before he can. “Renjun,” he says, sounding broken even though he’s not the one crying. He tucks his legs under himself, sitting upright and angling towards Renjun, and takes Renjun’s other hand- gingerly, like he’s something precious. “Renjun, it wasn’t your fault.” It’s little more than a whisper.

Renjun bites down hard on his lip, trying to stop the trembling. He still can’t look at Donghyuck.

“Junnie, look at me, please,” Donghyuck pleads, squeezing Renjun’s hands just enough to let Renjun know that he’s there.

Renjun pushes himself up, clumsy with just his elbows for support, and ends up sitting slumped next to Donghyuck, still holding tight to his hands. And Donghyuck must have some kind of power over him, some magnetism that pulls stronger than Renjun’s shame, because he finally finds himself twisting to face Donghyuck.

“ _ Renjun, _ ” Donghyuck says again, like his name is the only thing he knows, the only thing he’s sure of. Donghyuck blinks furiously, eyes glassy and cheeks a splotchy red. He grips Renjun’s hands and just stares at him, expression swimming with emotion, lips trembling. “I don’t know what to say,” he admits. 

Renjun’s breath rushes out of him all at once.  _ What if he shouldn’t have said all that all at once without warning? What if it’d been too much? _ He tries to look away, feeling himself clamming up, but-

“Hey,” Donghyuck says quickly, letting one of Renjun’s hands go so he can cup Renjun’s cheek, keep him from turning away and closing himself off. It feels so familiar. “I don’t know what the right thing to say is, but I do know what happened to us wasn’t just your fault. I know that I wish things had been different too, wish I’d given you more of a chance. I know I was scared, know I never wanted to lose you either. I understand why you decided to break things off.” His thumb strokes the damp skin of Renjun's cheek, and tears well in his eyes as well, slipping out when he blinks. “I’m sorry for how it all happened too.”

Renjun’s lips tug into a rueful grin, and his voice is thick, a little wet as he says, “I think that was the right thing. I think you got it.”

Donghyuck lets out a watery laugh, face scrunching even as tears continue to drip down his cheeks. His hand falls from Renjun’s jaw to his shoulder, and Renjun mourns the loss of contact until Donghyuck steadies his breath and meets Renjun’s eyes again. “Is it okay if I hug you now?” Donghyuck asks.

“Yeah,” Renjun says, already letting Donghyuck’s hand go so he can wrap his arms around Donghyuck’s waist and bury his face in Donghyuck’s shoulder.

Donghyuck’s arms circle Renjun, pulling him closer until their knees knock together. Donghyuck rests his hands flat against Renjun’s back and rubs light arcs into his shirt, the steady back and forth comforting. “How long have you been waiting to tell me?” Donghyuck asks.

“I don’t know,” Renjun admits, voice muffled by the fabric of Donghyuck’s hoodie. It’s easier to be honest like this, tucked safely in Donghyuck’s arms. “I didn’t mean to, really. Not like that. But when you mentioned that stuff from college it all just hit me at once.” He sniffs, hoping his nose isn’t running. “I guess I just realized how much I really missed you.”

Donghyuck’s grip tightens, just slightly. He leans his head against Renjun’s and sighs, and Renjun can feel his chest moving with each breath. “I missed you too,” Donghyuck says, voice low. “I missed you so much. That was the worst part of breaking up: that we weren’t even friends anymore. Not even being able to talk to you was terrible.”

Renjun squeezes his eyes shut. He’d been the one who cut off contact. He’d thought it would make things easier, but it had just hurt, left a void he couldn’t fill for the longest time. 

As if Donghyuck can hear his thoughts, he says, “I know why you did it though. I don’t blame you.”

“I didn’t know if I’d ever see you again,” Renjun admits. “I didn’t think I would. When I saw you at the beach, I really didn’t believe it.”

“Me too,” Donghyuck says. “I thought you were gonna disappear if I looked away.”

Renjun laughs, still watery. The late hour is making them honest, bringing down their walls and softening their voices. “I’m glad you were wrong.”

“So am I,” Donghyuck says.

They fall silent again, processing, soaking in the warmth of the hug. Renjun wants to stay like that even longer, just count the breaths Donghyuck takes while in his arms and be thankful for every one, but he finds a fatal flaw in his plan. “My back hurts,” he says, breaking the silence.

Donghyuck lets him go right away, hands dropping into his own lap so Renjun can straighten out, stretch the knots out of his muscles. “Better?” Donghyuck asks, looking a bit apologetic. 

Renjun nods, reaching out to rest a hand atop Donghyuck’s. The contact is grounding, eases the tension out of Donghyuck’s posture. They’re close again, close enough for Renjun to see the remnants of tears still clinging to Donghyuck’s lashes, the red marks dotting his skin. “I know I said I thought we could finish this puzzle tonight,” he starts, “but I’m fucking exhausted.”

Donghyuck’s cheeks crease with an understanding smile. “Me too,” he says. 

“Want to just watch something on the couch until Jeno and Jaemin come home? I’d feel weird leaving you alone out here before they’re back.”  _ I’m not ready to leave you just yet _ .

“That sounds good,” Donghyuck says, his voice still tired and gentle, but starting to fill with some of his usual light again.

“Okay.” Renjun offers a small smile of his own. He stands and points Donghyuck to the couch while he retrieves his laptop. When he returns, curling up next to Donghyuck and playing something mindless to keep them occupied, there's still one last confession resting on Renjun's tongue.  _ But _ , he thinks,  _ it can wait a little longer _ . 

For now, he just wants to revel in this, in Donghyuck holding his hand and their bodies moulding against each other. After enduring the burning heat of tears, of old buried truths being unearthed, ripped out by the roots, the gentle warmth of Donghyuck beside him is a relief to Renjun. A comfort. 

The show Renjun had started plays quietly, and there’s nothing but that, but Donghyuck’s presence, his steady breathing, and the light on in the hall. 

It’s enough.

✨

Renjun doesn't remember falling asleep. He knows he hadn’t planned on it, hadn’t thought that he would, but he must have, because he wakes to a bright flash of light and the sound of muffled cursing. 

Blinking his eyes open, Renjun finds the room tilted sideways. Or rather,  _ he  _ is sideways, looking up at the room from where he lays almost fully horizontal on the couch. In front of him stands Jaemin, still in the clothes he’d been wearing when he left for his date earlier. Out of the corner of his eye, Renjun thinks he sees Jeno disappearing into his room. 

Disoriented, Renjun tries to sit up, only to find that he’s anchored to the couch by something. When he twists to see what it is, he finds Donghyuck sprawled under him, and can finally place the weight around his middle as Donghyuck’s arm. Renjun flushes at the realization that he and Donghyuck had  _ both  _ fallen asleep, and that Jeno and Jaemin had come home to find them curled up in each other’s arms, inches away from falling off the couch. 

Suddenly the flash makes sense, and Renjun cranes his neck up to look at Jaemin, and just as he suspects, there’s a phone in Jaemin’s hands, pointed at right at him. 

“Did you just try to take a picture with your flash on?” Renjun whisper hisses.

Jaemin is backlit by the hall light, so Renjun can’t make out the details of his face, but he doesn’t have to see to know what kind of expression Jaemin is wearing as he whispers, “You guys just looked so  _ cute _ .”

Renjun wants to bite back with a vague threat he knows Jaemin won’t take seriously, but his tired brain is muddled, and he can’t think of anything. When he doesn’t whisper back any kind of scolding, Jaemin seizes the opportunity to escape, turning and speed-walking towards their room. Renjun watches him go, then looks back down at Donghyuck.

The light catches on the high points of Donghyuck’s face, fading into shadow where his face dips and curves. It softens his features - the pale light, and as he sleeps, somehow undisturbed, he looks so much younger. Renjun is reminded with a sharp stab of their college days, of Donghyuck visiting his dorm only to fall asleep there, the two of them squeezed onto Renjun’s tiny bed. 

Those nights had never been as comfortable as the weekends Donghyuck had brought Renjun home with him and they’d been able to sprawl out together on a real mattress, but they’d had their own special kind of intimacy. They were what Renjun had remembered most during the long nights of his senior year, when his tiny bed had still felt too big, too cold and empty. Renjun had missed them with a strength that had surprised him, shaken him to his core.

It’s a strange feeling, now, to realize that maybe he doesn’t have to miss those nights anymore. It’s strange and wonderful, to have wound up here, with Donghyuck like this.

Renjun considers staying, resting his head again and letting the warmth of Donghyuck’s body pull him back to dreams. He considers it, but his mouth feels like it’s stuffed with cotton, his face tight and salt-stained, and he knows his neck will punish him for sleeping like this. So, with regret, he carefully disentangles his limbs from Donghyuck, slipping out of his loose hold and rolling off the couch. 

He pads into his bedroom, illuminated by light spilling out of the open bathroom door. Jaemin stands at the sink, brushing his teeth. Renjun has the same idea, and goes to join him. For two minutes, they’re silent, preoccupied, until Renjun rinses and spits and can ask Jaemin how his date went.

“It was good,” Jaemin says, a satisfied grin on his face. “Definitely interesting. No car-keying necessary.”

Renjun fakes a sigh of disappointment, and Jaemin gives his shoulder a gentle smack. “How was your night? I heard Jeno made quite the first impression, and we saw the puzzle.”

Renjun tries to think of an appropriate response for nearly one in the morning. “Definitely interesting,” he ends up echoing. 

Jaemin raises a brow, and Renjun wonders with a jolt whether his face is still splotchy from crying, if his eyes are still red. Jaemin doesn’t press any further though, probably thoroughly exhausted for how late he’s gotten home, so Renjun is safe from interrogation for the night. 

“Are you gonna shower?” Renjun asks, eyeing Jaemin’s slightly rumpled clothes.

“I should,” Jaemin says, “but I am  _ beat _ , so I’m probably just gonna go pass out.”

Renjun laughs through his nose, nodding in understanding. “‘Kay. Have fun with that. I’m just gonna wash my face and then I’ll be out of your hair.”

“You not going back to bed?” Jaemin asks.

“I don’t think so,” Renjun says. “I got some late night inspiration so I think I’m gonna finish my painting first.”

Jaemin lets out a low breath. “Whatever floats your boat, man.” He moves to leave the bathroom, leaving Renjun to wash his face. “Night,” he calls softly over his shoulder.

“Night,” Renjun calls back. 

He uses the toilet and then washes up, and he’s out of the bathroom and collecting his painting supplies just as Jaemin turns off his bed lamp and pulls his covers up over his head. Renjun is sure to close their door quietly on his way out.

Renjun sets up at the table. He retrieves his canvas from where he’d stowed it away earlier, and works by the hall light. The cracks around Jeno’s door are dark, so Renjun knows he’s the only one up, and lets himself get lost in his painting. Getting lost means losing all sense of time, all awareness of his surroundings; there’s nothing but Renjun and his brush and the nearly completed art under his hands. 

It startles him, then, when without warning, a soft groan breaks through the silence of the apartment. He’s just finished his final stroke, one last dab of yellow against the grain of his painting to complete it, when the sound comes. Renjun flinches, and is glad that he’s not still in the middle of a careful stroke, that no damage comes to his work.

He sets his brush down and twists in his chair, looking over at the couch, looking for Donghyuck. At first, there’s nothing but the shadowed, barely distinguishable mass of his body, but then Donghyuck shifts, his head peeking over the side of the couch and catching the pale hall light. His hair is ruffled and in disarray, his left cheek is pink from being pressed against the cushions, and his eyes search the room curiously, drooping with sleep, but not stopping until they land on Renjun. 

It must be a trick of the light - the way his eyes shine, locked on Renjun’s - but Renjuns’ heart almost falls out of his chest at the sight regardless.

“Hey, sleepyhead,” Renjun says, voice low so he doesn’t disrupt the quiet.

Donghyuck blinks at him, waking slowly. It’s a long minute before he finally rolls off the couch and walks over to Renjun, but Renjun doesn’t care. He drinks in the sight of Donghyuck, a little messy, but completely real. He knows few people get to see Donghyuck like this.

“What’re you doing?” Donghyuck mumbles, not quite close enough to see what sits on the table before Renjun.

“Watching paint dry,” Renjun answers. There’s this feeling in his chest, a lightness left behind after pouring out everything that had been weighing him down earlier. Renjun watches Donghyuck move, come towards him, and he feels like a gentle breeze could sweep through the apartment and lift him up. Feels like maybe if he jumps now, he’ll be able to fly.

Donghyuck steps up to the table, catches sight of the canvas. A small sigh slips out of him, and he looks at the painting with just a little bit of wonder in his eyes. It’s a field lit by a sea of fireflies, glowing golden against the backdrop of a faded dusk. It’s the lights that keep shining even after the sun goes down. It’s the way Donghyuck makes Renjun feel: a living, breathing brightness, there even in the dark. “It’s beautiful,” Donghyuck whispers.

And Renjun just knows. He rises from his seat and looks right at Donghyuck. “I love you,” he says. 

Donghyuck turns, slow as spring melting snow. His eyes meet Renjun’s, and this time it’s not the reflection of the hall light that makes them shine. A soft smile tugs at Donghyuck’s lips, and something like gravity tugs him towards Renjun. 

“I’m in love with you,” Renjun says, as one of Donghyuck’s hands finds his and he laces their fingers together. 

The smile on Donghyuck’s lips grows, and it’s so soft, so sweet, that Renjun can’t bear it. He wouldn’t give it up for anything.

“I love you, too,” Donghyuck says, lifting a hand to rest on Renjun’s chest, just over his beating heart. “I don’t think I ever really stopped.” 

Renjun feels himself smiling too, cheeks tugging until they ache in the most pleasant way. One of his hands comes up, all on its own, to cup the nape of Donghyuck’s neck. He feels a shiver run down Donghyuck’s spine, and a quiet giggle bubbles in his stomach. He doesn’t feel like he could float, but like he  _ is _ . 

“Can I kiss you?” Renjun breathes.

“I don’t know, can you?” Donghyuck says, but he’s already leaning in. 

And Renjun can. After all this time, he finally can. He kisses Donghyuck, and  _ god _ , it feels like coming home.

The hand Donghyuck has on Renjun’s chest snakes around his middle to catch his waist, pulling him in until their bodies press together. There’s no heat, no burning, just slow warmth spreading over Renjun’s skin and curling in his chest. Renjun threads his fingers through Donghyuck’s hair, and their joined hands break apart just long enough to find purchase elsewhere. 

When Donghyuck pulls back to breathe, Renjun chases his lips, pressing a chaste kiss to them before tilting his head back to catch his breath as well. Both Donghyuck’s hands on his back press warmth right through Renjun’s shirt and into his skin, and the same warmth lingers where Renjun touches Donghyuck’s neck and cheek.

“I’ve wanted to do that for so long,” Donghyuck murmurs against Renjun’s lips, and he doesn’t give Renjun the chance to respond before kissing him again. 

Renjun has no objections, just lets himself melt against Donghyuck and return the kiss, lips moulding to fit Donghyuck’s. They’re the lips he’s kissed a thousand times before, and though they’re chapped now, two years subtly changed, the way they move is the same. It’s as new as it is familiar, exciting and comforting in the same breath. 

Renjun tugs Donghyuck’s hair just a bit, just enough to get him to sigh into the kiss, to part his lips. Renjun gets lost in it, in rediscovering the way Donghyuck moves and breathes, relearning what late nights in Donghyuck’s arms feel like. He doesn’t know how long it lasts, just that when they part, lips new shades of cherry and burgundy, it’s not quite enough. 

So Renjun leans his forehead against Donghyuck’s, arms around him holding them in a hug that feels different from all the others. He lets his eyes fall shut, and Donghyuck hums happily, the sound reverberating in his chest, thrumming over Renjun’s skin. He starts to sway, although there’s no music, no sound at all but their shifting weight making the floor whisper under them.

“I missed you so much,” Donghyuck says softly, breath fanning over Renjun’s lips. “I knew it wasn’t right for me to stay back then, but leaving you was still so fucking hard.”

Renjun presses a feather-light kiss to Donghyuck’s cheek, brushes careful fingers against his skin.

“Even when I didn't know what I wanted to do or where I wanted to be, I knew I wanted you,” Donghyuck whispers. “Even when I wasn't sure about anything, I was sure about you.” 

Renjun opens his eyes just a crack, sees Donghyuck swallow and take a breath. 

“Then I lost you,” Donghyuck says, and there’s pain in his voice, but it’s distant, a memory. “But I found myself, and then somehow I found you again, too.” He tightens his hold around Renjun’s middle, kisses Renjun’s jaw. 

When he doesn’t say anything else, Renjun lets out a slow breath, leans back so he can look Donghyuck in the eye, and lets one of his hands slip across Donghyuck’s skin to cup his cheek. “You asked me if I could believe in fate, right?”

Donghyuck nods.

“Honestly I don't know,” Renjun says, “but I know you make me want to. And I know I believe in chances, and even though I didn’t think life was actually kind enough to give second chances like this, I'm really,  _ really  _ happy I was wrong.” He strokes Donghyuck’s cheek, smiles at the way Donghyuck’s eyelids flutter and he leans into the touch. “Even if it’s not fate or anything like that, even if it really was just pure fucking chance, I want to make the most of it- this chance.”

Donghyuck smiles gently, leans in to press another kiss to Renjun’s lips, like he still can’t get enough. “Me too,” he murmurs. “What is it people say about soulmates? You don’t just find them, you make them? Think you can believe in that?”

Renjun laughs, a light little thing, but impossibly warm. “I already do.”

Donghyuck’s smile grows until it lights up his whole face, until he’s beaming at Renjun with everything he has. Renjun knows he looks just the same. He thumbs against Donghyuck’s cheek again, his skin soft and warm. “I know you’re probably tired still, and we should probably go to bed soon, but can we stay like this a little longer? I just-” he kisses Donghyuck’s cheek again, because he wants to, and he  _ can _ “-I just want to be here with you.” 

Donghyuck pulls Renjun closer in answer, chest pressed against chest, beating hearts almost touching. “Of course,” he says. There’s a smile on his lips. A promise. “I'm not going anywhere.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi one last time! if u made it here i hope that you enjoyed the fic!! i know it might have been messy in some places because it's the longest thing i've ever written straight through and i went on more than a few tangents and i forgot a bunch of the stuff i wrote ( •́ ﹏ •̀ ) but i would love to know what you thought~ even if you're very concise lol 
> 
> thank you for reading & i hope you're staying well in these weird ass times <3

**Author's Note:**

> [my twitter](https://twitter.com/speIIbond) ♡


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